Wrong Memory 2: Wizarding Memories
by APhantasm
Summary: Dawn receives yet another set of memories from Tom's reality. This time of a set of movies and the books they are based upon. Can she change the life of Willow's nephew Harry Potter?
1. Prologue

**Summary: **Dawn receives yet another set of memories from Tom's reality. This time of a set of movies and the books they are based upon. Can she change the life of Willow's nephew Harry Potter?

**A/U:** Set post Chosen in my Wrong Memory Universe and before Wrong Memory 2.

**Disclaimer:** Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy owns Buffy. J.K. Rowlings owns Harry Potter.

**Author's Note:** While this is the third story in the Wrong Memory Series. This actually takes place during the intervening years between Wrong Memory and Wrong Memory 2: Atlantis Memories. You can find the exact timeline for the entire series in my forum (link to it in my profile).

Also while Dawn will get the memories of both watching the movies and reading the books. This story takes place primarily in the books. But there will be references to the movieverse as well.

* * *

**Prologue**

**_June 2011_**

Dawn sat looking out the window of hers and Willow's home on the outskirts of London looking at the wintery landscape as she thought back on the years after the battle of Sunnydale.

There had been of course the double wedding on her birthday where she had married Willow and Buffy had married Faith.

She had gotten her Bachelor's, Master's and Doctorate degrees over the eight years after the Battle of Sunnydale.

She smiled as she thought about her goddaughter Jessica. Anya had given birth during after that final battle.

"What are you thinking about?"

Dawn turned to see Willow standing in the doorway leading toward the kitchen. She smiled at Willow as she crossed the room and pulled her beloved into an embrace and kissed her passionately. "Just all that has happened since the Battle of Sunnydale."

"I know what you mean," Willow replied, "especially with what happened last year."

Dawn thought back and nodded in agreement. Buffy and Faith had decided they wanted a child. But neither of them wanted some unknown person for the father. That left only three guys they trusted for the job; Oz, Xander and Giles. Oz had long since married to a female werewolf in Tibet and had two children, both of whom had inherited the werewolf genes from their parents. While Oz told them he had been happy they had thought of him, he had to decline. Seeing how Buffy and Faith would have to restrain their child on the nights of the full moon.

So Buffy and Faith had approached Giles, who also declined. He had always seen himself as the patriarch of the group which meant that Buffy, Dawn, Faith, Willow, Anya, Xander and all the other former Scoobies had been his children in all but blood and he was happy for it to remain that way.

That left Xander. At first Anya was against it, but Xander somehow managed to sway her and she consented. So Xander became the father to Buffy and Faith's daughter who had been born earlier in the year.

"You're right of course," Dawn told Willow. "You know I never figured Xander would be the one to father Joyce."

"But he did, and he is a good man," Willow said. "I know that from experience, after all I've known him for twenty-three years. "

Just then a letter flew through the mail slot and landed on floor by the front door as Dawn went over and picked it up. "Will, it's addressed to you," she told her lover.

Willow walked over to Dawn, who handed her the letter. She opened and began to read.

_Dear Mrs. Willow Danielle Rosenberg-Summers nee Evans,_

_Allow me to introduce myself; I am Professor Albus Wulfric Percival Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. I would like to meet you and your wife, and Slayer, Dawn Marie Rosenberg-Summers at the Leaky Cauldron on July thirty-first at ten o'clock in the morning at the Leaky Cauldron. It is a matter of utmost importance. _

_Alfred Dumbledore_

_Hogwarts School of Witchraft and Wizardry_


	2. Chapter 1: Willow's Family

**Chapter 1: Willow's Family**

The bartender of the Leaky Cauldron watched as two women walked in. Even from across the room he could tell the redhead was a powerful witch. Very likely on par with Albus Dumbledore and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. For the redheaded witch was none other than Willow Rosenberg, the witch that had almost ended the world.

Everyone in the wizarding world knew of her from that event. They also knew of her from another event a year later. Well her and the woman with her, Dawn Rosenberg-Summers, Willow Rosenberg's wife. For the two of them had activated all the Potential Slayers in the world and made them Slayers.

"Greetings ladies," he said as they approached him. "Is there anything I can do for you two?"

"We're looking for Albus Dumbledore," Dawn said. "We were told to meet him here."

"He is not here," the bartender said.

"Tom," came a voice, "I am right here."

Tom followed the sound of the voice and saw Dumbledore standing in the entrance that led to Diagon Alley.

"Ms. Rosenberg-Summers, I presume?" Dumbledore asked.

"Dawn, yes," Dawn said. "And this is my wife, Willow."

Dumbledore nodded and motioned toward a table. "Tom, three butterbeers," he said as he gazed at Willow and smiled. He noted how much she looked like her sister. He smiled and nodded to himself, if everything worked out the way he planned she would take Harry in and away from her sister, Petunia Dursley. He wondered if Willow remembered her life with her sisters.

Tom nodded and brought the drinks as Dawn, Willow and Dumbledore sat at the table.

"I'd wager, Dumbledore said. "That you both would like to know why you have been asked here. I will get straight to the point. I am in need of your services. I have a student at my school that is being targeted by a former student of mine. The student's name is Harry Potter and the one who is targeted him is known as Voldemort."

Quite a few of the patrons let out a gasp upon hearing the name.

"As you can guess," Dumbledore said as he waved his hand towards the other patrons. "His name is not mentioned. He is generally referred to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Several years ago there was a war that most muggles, what we call mortals, did not know about. Voldemort," there were several gasps again, "sought to make sure magic stayed in pure blood families. Half-Blood would be regulated and Muggle-borns, such as yourselves, would be outlawed from practicing magic at all. Then came the prophecy that Harry would face him and Voldemort went to kill Harry to stop the prophecy. Harry was left orphaned and Voldemort well disappeared. Last year Voldemort tried to return and almost succeeded, while at the same time almost killing Harry."

"What is it you wish us to do?" Willow asked.

"Teach," Dumbledore said. "The two of you would be taking over Defense Against the Dark Arts. This way you can help to protect Harry without being obtrusive."

"And if we accept," Dawn said.

"I will take you to get wands and robes," Dumbledore said, "Tutor the two of you privately over the remainder of the summer. And then you will teach the next term."

"We will do it," Dawn said.

Dumbledore led them out through the rear entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. He motioned for them to step back and took out his wand and tapped a brick three times. The bricks moved aside to allow them passage into Diagon Alley.

"A glamour spell?" Dawn asked.

"No," Dumbledore said as he glanced at Willow and Dawn. "A portal spell, though different than what you two are accustomed to."

"You know what we house?" Willow asked.

Dumbledore led them through opening, which closed behind them, and down the street. "I didn't when I sent you both the invitation to meet me. I do now though. The Key gives off a unique magical signature that any witch or wizard properly attuned can see, as well as many muggles.

"You're talking about a person being crazy," Dawn said. "Only those outside reality can see the Key's true nature."

"True," Dumbledore said.

"Which would mean you're crazy," Dawn said.

"Partially," Dumbledore said as he stopped in front of a door. "You don't get to be over a hundred years old and not be at least partially crazy. Ah here we are." He led them through the door and into what was obviously a dress shop.

"Professor," said a woman as she stepped out of the back.

"Greetings Madam," Dumbledore said. "I have two new staff here for the coming term. Could you please see that they get robes."

"Of course," the woman said. "Follow me." She led Willow and Dawn into the back room where they were measured and then fitted for robes. When they were finished they were escorted back to Dumbledore who took them down the street to another ship and inside.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice causing Dawn and Willow turn to face an elderly gentleman.

"Hello," said Dawn and Willow together.

"Professor," the man said. "What can I do for you today?"

"Well Mrs. Rosenberg-Summers and Mrs. Rosenberg need wands, Ollivander. They are muggle-born Wiccan witches. I will be tutoring them privately and then they will be teaching Defense this coming term."

"So you didn't hire, Lockhart?" Ollivander asked.

"Not for Defense, no," Dumbledore said. "I hired him for History of Magic. Professor Binns is actually taking a sabbatical, which surprised me seeing how he's a ghost."

"Ah," he said as a smile crossed his face. "Well, now who's first?" Dawn stepped forward as he pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Well, I'm right-handed," said Dawn.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Dawn from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round her head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mrs. Rosenberg-Summers. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

Ollivander started flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes. "Right then, Mrs. Rosenberg-Summers. Try this one. Willow and dragon heartstring. Ten inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

Dawn took the wand and waved it around a bit, but Ollivander snatched it out of her hand almost at once.

"Beechwood and phoenix feather. Nine inches. Quite whippy. Try —"

Dawn tried — but she had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Ollivander.

"No, no — here, willow and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

Dawn took the wand. She felt sudden warmth in her fingers. She raised the wand above her head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls.

Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. You must be very pure of heart and soul."

"Now Mrs. Rosenberg," Mr. Ollivander said. "I believe I have the perfect wand for you. Willow and the heartstring of a dragon, nine inches."

Willow took the wand and gave it a wave as sparks shot out from the end.

Ollivander smiled. "Much as I thought. That wand was created for another muggle-born who was the daughter of a Wiccan witch," he said.

Dumbledore paid Ollivander and they exited the shop heading up the street just as a man and a boy came out of an adjoining street. Well man wasn't quite right, he was taller than most men and wider too.

"Hagrid," Dumbledore said," and Harry. What was he doing down Knockturn Alley, Hagrid?"

"He got separated from the Weasley's," Hagrid said. "First time traveling by floo, missed the correct grate likely by one stop."

"Mom?" Harry said as Willow looked at him.

"You never said the last name of the boy, Professor," Willow said noting that that Harry looked like Lily's boyfriend, James.

Dumbledore smiled as he looked at Willow and could see she did indeed remember her sisters. "Willow Rosenberg, nee Evans," he said. "May I introduce you to your nephew … Harry Potter."

Dawn's eyes went wide as she looked at Willow. "You never told me you were adopted, baby," she said.

"What are you talking about, Professor?" Harry asked Dumbledore. "Aunt Petunia is my mom's only family left."

"Not true, Harry," Dumbledore said to Harry. "She was the only family I could place you with at the time."

Willow glanced at Dawn. "I never told anyone I was adopted, baby. Not even Xander or Jessie. There was an accident and mom and dad were killed. Petunia, Lily and I were the only survivors. I was adopted by an American couple."

"Why didn't she come visit?" Harry asked. "Why …"

Willow looked at Harry. "Because I wasn't allowed to. Lily and Petunia were put into foster care here. I was adopted by a couple in the U.S. Add on top of that, that my adoption was closed which meant that if you are under eighteen there is no contact with any other living relatives. I was still underage when Lily and James got married, so I wasn't informed. I tried writing to them once about ten years ago, the mail came back as undeliverable. Upon checking I found out that they had died."

"A news article would have mentioned me surviving though," Harry said.

"The news article I found believed you had died with them. I didn't know you were still alive," Willow said. "Now you're probably wondering why I never went to see Petunia when I turned eighteen. I hated my sister for what she put Lily through when we were kids. I wanted nothing to do with her."

"Harry! Harry! Over here!"

They looked up and saw a young girl about Harry's age standing at the top of the white flight of steps to Gringotts. She ran down to meet them, her bushy brown hair flying behind her.

"What happened to your glasses? Hello, Hagrid. Hello Professor."

"Hello, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said. "Harry I would like to have a moment with you if I could."

"Sure, Professor," Harry said as he walked away with Dumbledore.

"You must forgive me, Harry," Dumbledore said. "If I had any alternative eleven years ago, I would have placed you with your aunt Willow. I tried to find her as she was of age but was unable to, till recently."

"Why?" Harry asked. "Where had she been?"

"The Hellmouth," Dumbledore said as Harry's eyes went wide. "You've heard of it in your Defense Against the Dark Arts classes?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry said. "And I understand why you were unable to find her when she was younger. The magical energy that comes from the Hellmouth hid her. But what about recently?"

"To tell the truth I had long thought she might be dead," Dumbledore said. "When I had learned of her adoption by the American couple I had placed a spell upon her so that I would know where she was. Then she disappeared. All further tracking spells had failed. We of course know why now, but I didn't know then. And so I thought she had died."

Harry let out a sigh of relief. At least he knew now why this supposed aunt had never shown up. Between her hatred for his aunt Petunia, the American legal system, and Dumbledore's belief …

"Now, Harry," Dumbledore said. "You know why I have had you remain at your aunts."

"Because of the protection my mother left upon me," Harry said.

"That's right," Dumbledore said. "It is my intention to let you choose who you live with. The protection that your mother left will work with either of your aunts. But you do not need to choose at this very moment. After the term begins you can get to know Willow. I will give you the year, Harry. By the end of term next Spring I will expect your decision."

"I understand Professor," Harry said as they walked back to Hermione, Willow and Dawn.

Dumbledore then left with Dawn and Willow.


	3. Chapter 2: Start of Term

**Chapter 2: Start of Term**

The rest of the summer vacation passed by in a blur as Dawn and Willow trained with Dumbledore in the use of their wands.

It was the start of term and Dawn was late for the start of term feast. She happened to look out the window of hers and Willow's room when she spotted a flying car. And then suddenly she gasped out as a memory flooded her mind. She had not had any new memories from Tom's reality since the final battle in Sunnydale. She was sure though that this was a memory from Tom's reality. This one confused her slightly as it was a mixture of words coupled with images. Maybe a movie based off a book?

The memory told her the car was about to hit the Whomping Willow.

Dawn watched as the nose of the car dropped. It was falling, gathering speed, heading straight for the solid castle wall. And then it missed the dark stone wall next to her window by inches as the car turned in a great arc, soaring over the dark greenhouses, then the vegetable patch, and then out over the black lawns, losing altitude all the time.

And then … CRUNCH.

Dawn grimaced at the sound of metal on wood as the car hit the thick tree trunk and dropped to the ground with a heavy jolt. She pictured the car and opened a portal stepping through it as the car dumped Harry, Ron Weasley and their belongings on the ground before driving off.

"Harry!" Dawn said shocked to see Harry there.

"Who are you?" Ron asked afraid that they were about to get in trouble.

"She's a friend of that new aunt I told you about," Harry said as he looked at Dawn. "How did you get here so fast?"

Dawn smiled. "Easy," she said as she opened a portal to Gryffindor Tower and pushed Harry and Ron's belongings through. She then let the portal close and opened another this time to the entry hall. "Through quickly before someone sees how you arrived."

Harry and Ron looked at each other and then hesitantly stepped through the portal just as Filch was coming at them. Dawn waved to Filch and then followed the boys through the portal closing it behind her.

"How can you do that?" Harry asked.

"Magic," Dawn said.

"But you didn't even use a wand," Ron said.

"Now all magic requires a wand," Dawn said. "Into the Great Hall, we're missing the feast."

They walked into the Great Hall and Dawn motioned for the boys to sit down as she made her way to the front of the hall and sat next to Willow. They watched as the First Years were sorted

After the feast Dawn watched as Harry and Ron were pulled aside in an adjoining room by Severus Snape, the potions master. She glanced at Willow and followed McGonagall and Dumbledore into the room.

McGonagall raised her wand the moment she entered and pointed it at the empty fireplace, where flames suddenly erupted. "Sit," she said, and both Harry and Ron backed into chairs by the fire.

"Explain," she said, her glasses glinting ominously.

"I can explain," Dawn said.

McGonagall and Snape looked to Dawn surprised to see her there.

"I brought them to school," she said.

"And how did you manage that?" Snape asked.

Dawn smiled as she opened a portal and stepped through it to the other side of the room.

"How did you manage that?" Snape asked with a frown. "No one can apparate inside the grounds of Hogwarts."

"That was not apparition," a voice said. "That was a portal created by the Key. Something far older than the wards that surround this castle. Something that when the wards were created had not been planned for."

They turned to see Dumbledore standing in the doorway.

"Far older?" Snape asked.

"It's believed that the Key is as old as time itself," Dawn said. "Of course I was told that by a hell god so I don't know if there is any truth to that."

"As interesting as that is," McGonagall said. "Why were you needed to get them?"

"Boys," Dawn said.

Ron told them about the barrier at the station refusing to let them through.

"Then Willow got an owl from Harry," Dawn said. "Telling us what had happened."

"How did the Whomping Willow get damaged?" Snape asked.

"I portaled too close to the tree, it didn't like it," Dawn said. "And being a Slayer I can fight back."

"Innocent till proven guilty, Severus," Dumbledore said.

After Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape had left, Dawn turned to Harry and Ron. "You two are lucky I saw you arrive. You would have been in hot water otherwise," she said.

"We know," Harry said. "By the way what are you and Willow doing here?"

"We're teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts," Dawn said.

"Ah, Professor," Harry said.

"Get on up to bed," Dawn said. "If anyone asks, I detained you and if they have a problem should report to me."

Harry and Ron turned and left the room as Willow joined her.

"What happened?" Willow asked.

"They flew a magical car," Dawn said. "Into that Whomping Willow tree on the grounds. I got to them via portal before anyone else could. Will, it looks like I may have new memories. This time of a series of movies based off a set of books. Just before Harry and Ron arrived in the car I had a memory surface it was mixed with words and images."

"Interesting," Willow said. "Could you tell …"

"I think the first movie or book was titled Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone," Dawn said. "The images and words came from the second book."

"So," Willow said. "We will be not only protecting Harry. But using the movie or book knowledge to give him a better life, like you did with us in Sunnydale."

"Looks like," Dawn said.

The next day Dawn looked at the breakfast laid out on the staff table and frowned. "Porridge and fish?" she said with a shake of her head. "A least we have milk, toast, bacon and eggs."

Willow smiled at Dawn as a rushing sound could be heard overhead and a hundred or so owls streamed in, circling the hall and dropping letters and packages. One owl dropped a letter in front of Dawn and Willow.

Dawn opened and smiled. "It's from Buffy. She says she misses us as usual. Joyce just turned one and she and Faith through her a big birthday bash with Xander, Giles and a few of the Slayers in attendance. She said our gift for Joyce was much appreciated."

"What did you send her?" Willow asked remembering that Dawn had said she had picked something out for them.

"Actually not so much what I sent as what I did. I portaled into Joyce's room when Buffy and Faith had taken Joyce out to the park. I painted the room, pink. On the door is stenciled Joyce's Room."

"That's nice, baby," Willow said as she leaned over and kissed Dawn.

"Hmm Buffy wants you to write and tell her about your family, especially, Harry," Dawn said.

"I'll do that tonight," Willow said.

Dawn glanced over at Harry and Ron when she heard what sounded like someone howling. She couldn't make out the words but she was sure that from everything she had seen so far in Hogwarts that it was Ron's mother's voice. She wished she hadn't wrote that note to the Weasley's.

The morning went fine and passed relatively quickly for Dawn and Willow. After lunch they had some time before their second year class. They walked outside and passed Hermione who was reading Voyages with Vampires.

"You are aware that book is fiction," Dawn said when she noticed the title.

"Fiction?" Hermione asked as she looked up. "This is a required textbook for my history of magic class."

"If Professor Lockhart had actually come up against a vampire, he would dead," Dawn said.

"And how would you know?" Hermione asked.

"Because I'm a Slayer," Dawn said as Hermione's eyes went wide. She and Willow walked on and passed Harry as a boy asked to take Harry's picture.

"A picture?" Harry repeated blankly as Willow and Dawn sat on a bench.

"So I can prove I've met you," said they boy eagerly, edging further forward. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead" (his eyes raked Harry's hairline) "and a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures'll move." He drew a great shuddering breath of excitement and said, "It's amazing here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either. So I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it'd be really good if I had one of you"—he looked imploringly at Harry—"maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"

"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?"

Loud and scathing, another boy's, Dawn and Willow thought might be a miniature Spike, voice echoed around the courtyard. He had stopped right behind the first, flanked by two large boys.

"Everyone line up!" Malfoy roared to the crowd. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

"Mr. …" Willow said as she walked over to Harry and the three boys. She looked to Harry.

"Malfoy," Harry told her.

Willow nodded. "Mr. Malfoy. I highly suggest you go about your business and leave Mr. Potter and his friends to theirs. Or I will see you in detention."

Malfoy glared at Willow. "Yes, Professor," he said as he and the other two boys stalked off.

"Thanks," Harry said.

"No, problem, Harry," Willow said as she rejoined Dawn.

Just then a bell rang somewhere in the school and everyone headed inside. Willow and Dawn were the last to enter their classroom.

"Afternoon everyone," Dawn said. "I'm Professor Rosenberg-Summers and this is my wife Professor Rosenberg. That said we are not going to stand on formality in our classroom. You can call me Dawn and Willow, well Willow."

"You are probably wondering who we are," Willow said. "How we got this position. We are what you call muggle-born. As a result we grew up on a Hellmouth learning Wiccan magic."

Several of the students in the room gasped when they heard that Willow and Dawn had grown up on a Hellmouth.

"We have been fighting the forces of darkness for several years," Dawn said. "I am also a Slayer. No I am not the Slayer, just a Slayer. A few years ago, Willow and I cast a spell that turned all Potentials into Slayers. Now we want to start with a quiz. See what you remember from last year and then we'll proceed with a small demonstration."

Willow and Dawn then handed out the quizzes and a half an hour later they were completed. They proceeded to go over all of them and smiled.

"Good," Willow said. "It seems you all are on the same page. And now for the demonstration. We acquired a pair of Cornish pixies." She lifted a covered cage from out behind the desk. "They are not to be trifled with. Two of them are capable of lifting one of you easily. They can fly which makes them hard to capture."

"Which leads into the demonstration," Dawn said as she removed the cover from the cage.

One of the students couldn't control himself. He let out a snort of laughter.

"Now, repeat after me," Willow said. "Immobulus"

"Immobulus," the class echoed.

"Good," Willow said. "You will need that spell to capture them. Now for the demonstration." She opened the cage.

The pixies shot out of the cage like rockets. They seized Neville by the ears …

"Immobulus," shouted Dawn and the two pixies froze in midair. "Sorry Mr."

"Longbottom," Neville said.

"Mr. Longbottom," Dawn said as she grabbed the pixies and stuffed them back into the cage. "As you can see just the pair of them was prepared to lift Mr. Longbottom up in the air. They have strength proportionate to myself."

Hermione raised her hand.

"Yes, Ms."

"Granger," Hermione said. "How did you cast the spell without a wand?"

"Some spells can be cast wandlessly if you have the power to do so," Willow said. "Now take WIngardium Leviosa, it can't be cast wandlessly as it requires the wand moves as well. Immobulus doesn't require wand movements. Just the conviction and the power behind the spell."

"You all couldn't do the spell wandless because you don't have the knowledge that we have," Dawn said. "That said we could teach you of course to do Wiccan spells and wand spells wandless. Anyone who wishes to do so can meet us on Saturday and will receive extra credit."


	4. Chapter 3: Whispers

**Author's Note: **If you have not read the other two stories in this series you might want to. Some things are explained in them that might be mentioned here. And even though Wrong Memory 2 is set after this one timeline wise. It was started before this one (hence being Wrong Memory 2) and there are things that were revealed there that have been mentioned here. Such as Buffy and Faith's daughter Joyce.

A reviewer asked who Joyce's father was. If you had read Wrong Memory 2 you would know the answer, I hope. But in case you don't know or have yet to read, there is in effect no father. It was revealed in Wrong Memory 2 that Buffy was artificially inseminated. The likely _father_ is an anonymous stranger from a sperm bank.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Whispers**

"Where's Harry?" Willow asked when she and Dawn came down for breakfast.

"I heard that he had Quidditch practice this morning," Dawn said.

Other than during classes, they rarely saw Harry. It seemed he had been dodging Lockhart every time he saw the interim professor.

"Either that or he's avoiding Lockhart again," Dawn said glancing at the man in question who sat at the other end of the staff table.

"Why don't we go check the Quidditch field," Willow suggested. "I've been wanting to see how they play this sport we've never heard of before."

Dawn and Willow grabbed some food and headed out to the Quidditch pitch. There they saw the Gryffindor team riding on broomsticks, practicing. They spotted Harry soaring above them, racing two other Gryffindor students.

"What's that funny clicking noise?" called Fred Weasley as they hurtled past Willow and Dawn who had climbed to the top of one of the stands.

Dawn and Willow looked around and spotted Colin Creevy, a Gryffindor first year student, with a camera raised, taking picture after picture, the sound strangely magnified in the deserted stadium.

"Look this way, Harry! This way!" he cried shrilly.

"Mr. Creevy," Dawn said. "Put the camera away. It's distracting their practice."

Colin looked to Dawn and Willow. "Sorry, Professors," he said as he quickly tucked the camera away.

Willow nudged Dawn and motioned towards the ground below. Several students in green robes were walking onto the field, broomsticks in their hands.

"The Slytherin's are here," said George Weasley, pointing.

"I don't believe it!" Oliver Wood hissed in outrage. "I booked the field for today! We'll see about this!"

Wood shot toward the ground, landing rather harder than he meant to in his anger, staggering slightly as he dismounted. Harry, Fred, and George followed.

A second later they were joined by Dawn and Willow as well.

"Flint!" Wood bellowed at the Slytherin Captain. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

Marcus Flint replied, "Plenty of room for all of us, Wood."

The rest of the Gryffindor team landed as well. The Slytherin team stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the Gryffindors, leering at them. They hadn't noticed Dawn and Willow standing behind the Gryffindors yet.

"But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "I booked it!"

"Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"

"Let me see that," Dawn said as she stepped between the two teams.

"Professor," Flint said, he hadn't expected there to be a professor out here. He handed her the note.

Dawn looked over the note. "That is what it says," she said. "Aperio."

The note did not change, it was genuine.

"It's real," Dawn said as she handed the note to Wood.

Wood looked over the note and then at flint. "You've got a new Seeker? Where?"

And from behind the six large figures before them came a seventh, smaller boy, smirking all over his pale, pointed face. It was Draco Malfoy.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" said Fred, looking at Malfoy with dislike.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint as the whole Slytherin team smiled still more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words: Nimbus Two Thousand and One.

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," said Flint making sure not to say anything that would get him detention since Dawn and Willow stood right there. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps sweeps the board with them."

"Since they have a note, Mr. Wood," Dawn said. "I hereby give my permission for your team to come back after breakfast and train during mine and Willow's Wiccan lesson today. Any Gryffindor team member who wanted to attend may see us after practice and we'll do a special session then."

The Slytherins frowned.

Wood nodded. "Thank you, Professor," he said. "Well Gryfindors we'll be back after breakfast."

The Gryffindors turned and left the field as Dawn and Willow followed them.

After their lesson Willow and Dawn were stopped by McGonagall on their way to lunch.

"I was asked by Professor Dumbledore, to see if you two would patrol the castle and grounds tonight," McGonagall said.

"Of course we would," Willow said.

"I should have been doing it anyways," Dawn said. "Helps burn off some of that excess Slayer energy when I'm out on patrol."

"Thank you," McGonagall said.

The afternoon seemed to melt away, and in what seemed like no time, it was five minutes to eight, and Dawn and Willow were patrolling the corridors. They passed Lockhart's classroom and frowned. Harry was in there.

Willow stepped into the classroom. "Professor Lockhart."

"Ah Professor Rosenberg," Lockhart said. "I see you and Professor Rosenberg-Summers are making the rounds. Harry here is serving detention with me."

"For?" Willow asked.

"He …" Lockhart said trying to find an excuse. "He failed a quiz."

"Not really worthy of detention," Willow said. "Come on, Harry. Your detention is over."

Harry glanced at Lockhart who nodded and he followed Willow out of the classroom. "Thank you," he said as they headed down the corridor.

And then Dawn and Harry heard something. It was a voice, a voice to chill the bone marrow, a voice of breathtaking, ice-cold venom.

"Come… come to me… Let me rip you… Let me tear you… Let me kill you…"

Harry glanced at Willow and Dawn. "Do you two hear that voice?"

"What voice?" Willow asked.

"I hear it," Dawn said. "Something is in the castle and wants to kill."

Harry looked at Dawn with a look of surprise that she had heard it too. "It's gone now."

"Agreed," Dawn said straining to hear it again. Even with her Slayer hearing she could no longer hear it.

"What did you hear?" Willow asked.

"Come… come to me… Let me rip you… Let me tear you… Let me kill you…" Dawn recited back from memory.

"Hmm," Willow said. "Tomorrow I'm going to check into the legends of Hogwarts. Dawn you should take to Professor Dumbledore."

Dawn nodded in agreement. "Harry, we'll figure it out."

The next morning Dawn sat in Dumbledore's office. "And that was what both Harry and I heard," she said.

Dumbledore let out a sigh. "Then it is very good we have a Slayer on the premises. There is a hidden chamber somewhere in or beneath the school. No one knows where. Within is supposed to be a terrible beast. The last time the chamber was opened was when Voldemort was still attending Hogwarts. The creature killed a student."

"Who?" Dawn asked.

"Myrtle Travers," Dumbledore said. "You would likely know her as Moaning Myrtle."

"Moaning Myrtle," Dawn said as she filed that information away for the moment. "And was the killer ever apprehended?"

"As far as the Ministry was concerned, yes," Dumbledore said. "Hagrid kept a pet acromantula. It was believed by the Ministry that was the creature that killed Myrtle. And Hagrid was expelled, his wand snapped."

"But Hagrid didn't do it," Dawn said. "If he had you wouldn't have employed later."

"You are correct," Dumbledore said. "It is my belief that there is indeed a creature in what is referred to as the Chamber of Secrets. It was released when Myrtle was killed and when Hagrid was found guilty the killings stopped."

"Who accused Hagrid?" Dawn asked.

"Voldemort," Dumbledore said. "I also believe that he opened the Chamber while he was here. If the creature is loose that means a student knows where the Chamber is and has unleashed the creature. Possibly with the intention of finishing Voldemort's work."

"To get rid of the muggle-born and regulate the half-blood," Dawn said.

"Yes," Dumbledore said.

"I'll keep my ears open."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. Raindrops the size of bullets thundered on the castle windows for days on end; the lake rose, the flower beds turned into muddy streams, and Hagrid's pumpkins swelled to the size of garden sheds.

Dawn had patrolled the corridors of the school every night waiting and listening for the voice. But she had heard nothing.

Willow had looked through every book she could find and found little or no information on the Chamber of Secrets.

But that would change the night of Halloween. The majority of students were happily anticipating their Halloween feast; the Great Hall had been decorated with the usual live bats, Hagrid's vast pumpkins had been carved into lanterns large enough for three men to sit in, and there were rumors that Dumbledore had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for the entertainment.

Dawn was standing guard at the entrance to the Great Hall when she saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked straight past here and headed for the dungeons.

"Harry," Dawn said as Harry looked at her. "Where are you three going?"

"Nearly Headless Nick invited us to his deathday party," Harry said.

"Alright," Dawn said and she glanced at Willow. ~ I'm going to accompany Harry to Nearly Headless Nick's party. ~

Willow nodded.

Dawn fell in step next to Hermione, Ron and Harry.

The passageway leading to Nearly Headless Nick's party had been lined with candles, too, though the effect was far from cheerful. The temperature dropped with every step they took. They also heard what sounded like a thousand fingernails scraping an enormous blackboard.

"Is that supposed to be music?" Ron whispered. They turned a corner and saw Nearly Headless Nick standing at a doorway hung with black velvet drapes.

"My dear friends," he said mournfully. "Welcome, welcome… so pleased you could come… Professor Rosenberg-Summers, what an unexpected surprise."

"Well Harry told me about your party and being a Slayer I just had to see what kind of party it was, no offense," Dawn said.

"None taken. Not that you can truly harm me or my other guests. But I wouldn't have expected anything less."

He swept off his plumed hat and bowed them inside.

It was an incredible sight. The dungeon was full of hundreds of pearly-white, translucent people, mostly drifting around a crowded dance floor, waltzing to the dreadful, quavering sound of thirty musical saws, played by an orchestra on a raised, black-draped platform.

"Shall we have a look around?" Harry suggested.

"Careful not to walk through anyone," said Ron nervously, and they set off around the edge of the dance floor.

"Oh, no," said Hermione, stopping abruptly. "Turn back, turn back, I don't want to talk to Moaning Myrtle—"

"Who?" said Harry as they backtracked quickly.

"She haunts the first floor girls' bathroom," said Dawn. "I've been meaning to talk to her since we heard that voice. I learned some stuff."

"You did?" Harry asked. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Sorry, I forgot," Dawn said. "I promise I'll tell you later."

"Look, food!" said Ron.

On the other side of the dungeon was a long table, also covered in black velvet. They approached it eagerly but next moment had stopped in their tracks, horrified. The smell was quite disgusting. Large, rotten fish were laid on handsome silver platters; cakes, burned charcoal-black, were heaped on salvers; there was a great maggoty haggis, a slab of cheese covered in furry green mold and, in pride of place, an enormous gray cake in the shape of a tombstone, with tar-like icing forming the words,

SIR NICHOLAS DE MIMSY-PORPINGTON

DIED 31ST OCTOBER, 1492

A portly ghost approached the table, crouched low, and walked through it, his mouth held wide so that it passed through one of the stinking salmon.

"Can you taste it if you walk through it?" Harry asked him.

"Almost," said the ghost sadly, and he drifted away.

"I expect they've let it rot to give it a stronger flavor," said Hermione knowledgeably, pinching her nose and leaning closer to look at the putrid haggis.

"Can we move? I feel sick," said Ron.

"I have to agree with Ron," Dawn said. "And it takes a lot to turn a Slayer's stomach."

Nearly Headless Nick drifted toward them through the crowd.

"Enjoying yourselves?"

"Oh, yes," they lied.

"Not a bad turnout," said Nearly Headless Nick proudly. "The Wailing Widow came all the way up from Kent… It's nearly time for my speech, I'd better go and warn the orchestra…"

The orchestra, however, stopped playing at that very moment. They, and everyone else in the dungeon, fell silent, looking around in excitement, as a hunting horn sounded.

"Oh, here we go," said Nearly Headless Nick bitterly.

Through the dungeon wall burst a dozen ghost horses, each ridden by a headless horseman. The assembly of ghosts clapped wildly.

The horses galloped into the middle of the dance floor and halted, rearing and plunging. At the front of the pack was a large ghost who held his bearded head under his arm, from which position he was blowing the horn. The ghost leapt down, lifted his head high in the air so he could see over the crowd (everyone laughed), and strode over to Nearly Headless Nick, squashing his head back onto his neck.

"Nick!" he roared. "How are you? Head still hanging in there?"

"Welcome, Patrick," said Nick stiffly.

"Live 'uns!" said Sir Patrick, spotting Dawn, Harry, Ron, and Hermione and giving a huge, fake jump of astonishment, so that his head fell off again.

"Very amusing," said Nearly Headless Nick darkly.

"Don't mind Nick!" shouted Sir Patrick's head from the floor. "Still upset we won't let him join the Hunt! But I mean to say—look at the fellow—"

"I think," said Harry hurriedly, at a meaningful look from Nick, "Nick's very—frightening and—er—"

"Ha!" yelled Sir Patrick's head. "Bet he asked you to say that!"

"If I could have everyone's attention, it's time for my speech!" said Nearly Headless Nick loudly, striding toward the podium. "My late lamented lords, ladies, and gentlemen, it is my great sorrow…"

But nobody heard much more. Sir Patrick and the rest of the Headless Hunt had just started a game of Head Hockey and the crowd were turning to watch. Nearly Headless Nick tried vainly to recapture his audience, but gave up as Sir Patrick's head went sailing past him to loud cheers.

"I can't stand much more of this," Ron muttered.

"Let's go," Harry agreed.

They backed toward the door, nodding and beaming at anyone who looked at them, and a minute later were hurrying back up the passageway full of black candles.

"Pudding might not be finished yet," said Ron hopefully, leading the way toward the steps to the entrance hall.

And then Dawn and Harry heard it.

"…rip… tear… kill…"

It was the same voice, the same cold, murderous voice.

"Do you hear it?" Harry asked Dawn as he came to a halt.

"Yes," Dawn said. "This way." She took the lead from Ron and led the trio up the stairs and into the entrance hall.

"…soo hungry… for so long… kill… time to kill…"

"What're we—" Hermione and Ron started.

"SHH!" Dawn said as she strained her ears. From the floor above she heard the voice: "…I smell blood… I SMELL BLOOD!"

"It's going to kill someone!" Harry shouted as Dawn nodded and led them up the next flight of steps. She hurtled around the whole of the second floor not stopping until they turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.

"Professor, Harry, what was that all about?" said Ron, wiping sweat off his face. "I couldn't hear anything…"

But Hermione gave a sudden gasp, pointing down the corridor.

"Look!"

Dawn followed Hermione's gaze and her eyes widened. "Stay here," she said and headed down the corridor. She could hear that Harry, Ron and Hermione had not obeyed her order and were following. As they approached They could see that foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.

_THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED._

_ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE._

"What's that thing—hanging underneath?" said Ron, a slight quiver in his voice.

Dawn edged nearer.

"Careful," Harry said. "There is a puddle of something on the floor."

Dawn nodded as she opened a portal and stepped through on the otherside of the puddle closer to the dark shadow. She realized what it was at once.

Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring.

Suddenly Dawn gasped out. "Harry, Ron, Hermione," she said. "Go to Gryffindor tower, now."

"Why?" Harry wondered.

"Just do it," Dawn said as Harry, Ron and Hermione turned and hurried down the corridor. They turned a corner just as she heard what she had seen in the memory. The rumble of students heading for their dormitories. From either end of the corridor came the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs, and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people; next moment, students were crashing into the passage from both ends.

The chatter, the bustle, the noise died suddenly as the people in front spotted the hanging cat.

Then someone shouted through the quiet.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

Dawn turned and found it had been Malfoy who had spoken. He had pushed to the front of the crowd, he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat.


	5. Chapter 4: Mrs Norris

**Chapter 4: Mrs. Norris**

"What's going on here? What's going on?"

Attracted no doubt by Malfoy's shout, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.

"My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he shrieked.

"Argus!"

Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers and Willow.

~ Baby? ~ Willow projected.

Dawn smiled at Willow. ~ I was with Harry, Ron and Hermione. We happened upon the scene. ~

Dumbledore detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.

"Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You, too, Dawn."

Lockhart stepped forward eagerly.

"My office is nearest, Headmaster—just upstairs—please feel free—"

"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore.

The silent crowd parted to let them pass. Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after Dumbledore; so did Willow, McGonagall and Snape.

As they entered Lockhart lit the candles on his desk and stood back. Dumbledore laid Mrs. Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her.

"I happened upon the scene while patrolling the corridors," Dawn said.

Dumbledore only nodded as he looked closely at the cat as he prodded and poked her.

"It was definitely a curse that killed her—probably the Transmogrifian Torture—I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very countercurse that would have saved her…" Lockhart said. His comments were punctuated by Filch's dry, racking sobs.

Dumbledore muttered some words under his breath and tapped Mrs. Norris with his wand but nothing happened: She continued to look as though she had been recently stuffed.

"…I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadogou," said Lockhart, "a series of attacks, the full story's in my autobiography, I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets, which cleared the matter up at once…"

At last Dumbledore straightened up.

"She's not dead, Argus," he said softly.

Lockhart stopped abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders he had prevented.

"Not dead?" choked Filch, looking through his fingers at Mrs. Norris. "But why's she all—all stiff and frozen?"

"She has been Petrified," said Dumbledore ("Ah! I thought so!" said Lockhart). "But how, I cannot say…"

"I believe I know," Dawn said as Dumbledore looked at her. "Willow."

Willow opened a portal and reached in retrieving a book from hers and Dawn's bedroom. "This was one of the few tomes that mentioned the Chamber of Secrets."

"And where did you find it?" Snape asked.

"Cobb and Webb's," Willow said.

"That is a store that sells items related to the dark arts," Snape said.

Willow waved a hand in dismissal at Snape's comment. "A while back Dawn heard what sounded like a voice. She went to Albus and I started researching."

"I told Dawn about the Chamber and the creature supposedly hidden within," Dumbledore said.

"I looked through the books here and found brief mentions in _Hogwarts: A History_. I went to Flourish and Blotts and asked for any books on Hogwarts. Again all I found were very brief mentions. Nothing concrete," Willow said. "I checked several stores in Knockturn Alley before finding a book that held references to the Chamber of Secrets. This book," She held up the book," is a biography on Salazar Slytherin's life. He doesn't go into how to get into the Chamber or even where it is. But he does tell about the creature within, a basilisk."

"Of course," Dumbledore said. "A basilisk could petrify someone as long as they did not look it directly in the eye."

"Exactly," Dawn said.

"My cat has been Petrified!" Filch shrieked, his eyes popping. "How are we going to fix this?"

"We will be able to cure her, Argus," said Dumbledore patiently. "Professer Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris."

"I'll make it," Lockhart butted in. "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep—"

"Excuse me," said Snape icily. "But I believe I am the Potions master at this school."

There was a very awkward pause.

"We should step up patrols of the school and grounds," Dumbledore said. "Last time this creature was lose it went after muggle-borns. Therefor any muggle-born teacher should be accompanied at all times. Muggle-born students should be watched closely as possible without infringing on their privacy."

For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mrs. Norris. Filch kept it fresh in everyone's minds by pacing the spot where she had been attacked.

One day Willow and Dawn were heading for their classroom as they passed Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"That I'm Slytherin's heir, I expect," they heard Harry say.

"People here'll believe anything," said Ron in disgust.

Dawn and Willow looked at each and turned on their heels and jogged up to the trio.

"D'you really think there's a Chamber of Secrets?" Ron asked before he noticed Dawn and Willow beside them. "Hello, professors."

"Come with us," Willow said as she opened a portal. The trio followed by Willow and Dawn stepped through into Willow and Dawn's office. "We can speak freely here."

"There is a Chamber of Secrets," Dawn said. "The staff has been ordered by Dumbledore to keep the information secret so as not to panic the students."

"What about Mrs. Norris?" Hermione asked.

"She will be fine once the mandrakes in the greenhouse are old enough and a potion can be brewed," Willow said.

"And how did she get that way?" Harry asked.

Willow pulled out a book and handed it to Hermione. "Read what's on the cover."

"The Life and Times of Salazar Slytherin," Hermione read.

"It doesn't tell how to get into the Chamber," Willow said. "It does state what the beast might be. A basilisk. If you can manage to see it only in reflection you will be petrified. If you manage to see it directly you will be killed. The last time this creature was released a student was killed."

"Myrtle," Dawn said. "Moaning Myrtle."

"That's why you said you've been meaning to talk to her," Harry said.

"Yes," Dawn said. "She may remember how she died. And that could provide a clue to how to get into the Chamber."

"Wait if the Chamber was opened before," Harry said as he looked at Ron and Hermione. "That means that the Heir may not be a current student."

"You're correct," Dawn said. "The heir maybe Voldemort." She noticed that Ron flinched at the name. "Sorry, I know how some of you are with his name. Anyways Dumbledore believes he may be the one that opened the Chamber last time. Some evidence lends to that. Especially with what happened to Hagrid."

"What happened to Hagrid?" Harry asked.

"He was expelled and his wand snapped," Willow said. "He had a pet acromantula that the Ministry believed was responsible for the attacks. Voldemort," Ron flinched, "… sorry, Ron … pointed the finger at Hagrid himself. Probably to draw suspicion away from himself."

"Which also means he could have told his followers how to enter and they could have told one of their children," Hermione said. "Who can it be, though? Who'd want to frighten all the Muggle-borns out of Hogwarts?"

"Let's think," said Ron in mock puzzlement. "Who do we know who thinks Muggle-borns are scum?"

He looked at Hermione. Hermione looked back, unconvinced.

"If you're talking about Malfoy—"

"It is possible," Willow said. "After we sent you three to the Gryffindor Tower. He came with the crowd of students. We heard him say—_You'll be next, Mudbloods!_"

"And what was he doing with that crowd anyways," Dawn said. "They were all heading up to their dormitories. Slytherin dormitories are in the dungeons."

"Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin?" said Hermione skeptically.

"Look at his family," said Harry. "The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin; he's always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin's descendants. His father's definitely evil enough."

"They could've have known how to open the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!" said Ron. "Handing it down, father to son…"

"Well," said Hermione cautiously, "I suppose it's possible…"

"But how do we prove it?" said Harry darkly.

"There are two ways," Dawn said. "One is a Wiccan spell. The other is Polyjuice potion. Both have their drawbacks, but both would get the job done. Someone would glamour themselves either with the spell or the potion to look like Malfoy's friends. While the others subdued Crabbe and Goyle, the glamoured individuals would take their place and find out directly from the horse's mouth."

"What are the drawbacks?" Ron asked.

"First major drawback of Polyjuice potion is that it takes a month to brew," Dawn said. "Once taken it lasts only an hour, unless you drink more before the time is up. Another drawback is you physically change to look like the person you're replacing, and from what I've heard it is a painful transformation. The spell once learned can be utilized at any time. The drawback to it is the need for some concentration on the spell. You would not be able to let it lapse or the spell would end at the wrong time."

"How long would it take to learn the spell?" Harry asked.

"Depends on the three of you," Willow said. "It is an easy spell to learn, just not an easy spell to master because of amount of concentration needed. You could get it down in a day or it could be a month."

"What if we practiced and learned it up till the Christmas holidays," Hermione suggested. "There would be fewer students and it would easier to take Crabbe and Goyle's places then."

"Agreed," Willow and Dawn said.


	6. Chapter 5: Petrified

**Chapter 5: Petrified**

One of Dawn and Willow's lessons they arranged for Angel to come. They had magically darkened the windows and then opened a portal for him to come through.

"This is Angel," Dawn said. "Our next lesson will revolve around him. Angel if you could go into gameface."

Angel nodded as his demonic visage became visible.

"Before anyone begins to worry about Angel being a vampire. First let it be known that Professor Dumbledore himself approved this lesson," Willow said. "Second Angel is different from common vampires, he has a soul. Which keeps his demon in check. He is one of only two vampires to ever have a soul."

"Angel received his soul," Dawn said. "Thanks to a Romani curse. The Romani are gypsies, but don't go calling them that to their faces. The term gypsy has become offensive to them. How long ago Angel did they curse you?"

"A hundred and fourteen years ago," Angel said.

"Angel did not join our side at first. At first his soul tormented him," Willow said. "It was not till 1996 that Angel was approached by the messenger of a higher being. We refer to them as the Powers that Be. This messenger sent Angel on his path to redemption."

"Redemption?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Angel said. "What first started with Dawn's sister in Sunnydale, California. Led me on a path to helping the helpless against others of my kind as well as the demonic forces bent to end our world."

"Now we want to see how much you know," Dawn said. "What will ward a vampire off?"

"Garlic," said Neville.

"Myth," Angel said. "Garlic has no more effect on us than it has on you. The vampires that are repulsed by it are ones that disliked the smell of it when they were still human."

"A cross," said Harry.

"That one is fact," Dawn said. "To a degree anyways. While a cross will ward off a vampire. It has more to do with your faith. If you're not the religious type the cross will not work as well for you as someone who is a religious zealot. That said though as I mentioned it will still ward off a vampire long enough for you to turn and run. What can kill a vampire?"

"Fire?" Hermione asked hesitantly. After Dawn had said Lockharts book was fake she had gone to the library and done some research.

"Yes," Willow said. "Fire does work. The problem with fire is being able to set a vampire a flame."

"Vampires," Angel said, "tend to shy away from fire."

"A wooden stake to the heart," Justin Finch Finley said.

"Stake to the heart is the most common," Dawn said. "Most humans muggle or wizard do not have the strength to shove a wooden stick into a vampire's heart. Which brings us to the person chosen to fight them."

"The Slayer," Willow said. "We do not know exactly when the First Slayer was created. We do know that the First Slayer was embued with the heart of a demon. Which gave the Slayer her strength, her agility, her speed, her improved senses. The Slayer is born to fight the darkness. And the Slayer most times is a muggle with no magical training. Till recently no witch had ever become a Slayer. That is until Dawn. Dawn is a Slayer and a witch."

"How I was called is a long complicated discussion," Dawn said. "That I think I will leave for another time."

"Next time we will be talking about werewolves," Willow said as the bell rang and everyone filed out.

"Thanks for coming, Angel," Dawn said.

"You're welcome," Angel said. "Tell Buffy I said hello."

"We will," Willow said as she opened a portal and Angel stepped through it.

Willow and Dawn woke early on Saturday morning and lay for a while thinking about the coming Quidditch match. Other than the practice session the Slytherins had interrupted they had yet to see much of Quidditch.

They eventually got up, dressed, and went down to breakfast early, where they found the Gryffindor team huddled at the long, empty table, all looking uptight and not speaking much.

As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air.

Dawn and Willow hurried over to Harry the moment they spotted him and wish him luck just before Ron and Hermione came up to them doing the same.

As Dawn and Willow sat with Hermione, Ron and Hagrid they watched as the Gryffindor team walked out onto the field, a roar of noise greeted them

Flint and Wood shook hands.

"On my whistle," said Madam Hooch. "Three… two… one…"

With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. Harry flew higher than any of them, squinting around for the Snitch.

Willow watched and frowned at Malfoy as he shot underneath Harry. Then she saw it a heavy black Bludger went pelting toward Harry; who avoided it narrowly. "That was close."

Dawn had to nod in agreement as George streaked past Harry and hit the bludger toward a member of the Slytherin team, but the Bludger changed direction in midair and shot straight for Harry again.

Harry dropped quickly to avoid it, and George managed to hit it hard toward Malfoy. Once again, the Bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at Harry's head.

"Hagrid," Willow said. "Is that supposed to do that?"

Hagrid shook his head. "No. That bludger has to have been tampered with."

"How?" Hermione said. "Their locked in Madam Hooch's office when not used for practice or a match."

Harry put on a burst of speed and zoomed toward the other end of the field. The bludger continued to follow him.

Fred Weasley was waiting for the Bludger at the other end. Harry ducked as Fred swung at the Bludger with all his might; the Bludger was knocked off course.

For a moment it looked like the Bludger had finally been detered from its target. Then as though it was magnetically attracted to Harry, the Bludger pelted after him once more and Harry was forced to fly off at full speed.

Dawn looked to Willow and made her way around the stands to Madam Hooch who hovered near the teacher's box. "Madam Hooch. That Bludger has been tampered with."

"Impossible," Madam Hooch said without taking her eyes off what was going on just the rain started to come down. "Their locked in my office when not in use. No one could have tampered with it."

"Then explain to me how that Bludger keeps following Harry and no one else," Willow said as she came beside Dawn.

Madam Hooch looked briefly at Willow and Dawn and then at the Bludger in question and blew her whistle. "This match is suspended till determination can be made on an Bludger that may have been tampered with, however impossible that may be."

"I'll cast a spell and freeze it where it is," Dawn said as Madam Hooch nodded. She looked toward the Bludger. "Kali, Hera, Thonic; air like nectar thick as onyx. Cassiel by your second star, hold my victim as in tar."

The Bludger halted in midair as Madam Hooch approached it. Dawn and Willow could see she that she had pulled out her wand and waved it over the Bludger a frown coming over her face. She flew back to Dawn.

"There is magic involved," Madam Hooch said. "Beyond just your spell now. It has not been tampered with but is being magically controlled none the less by someone here in the stands."

"Is this rogue Bludger," Dumbledore said as he approached them. "A danger to the students?"

"Only Harry it seems," Willow said. "It's chasing him only. And all attempts to knock it away are futile. It just resumes chasing him."

Dumbledore nodded and he raised his wand and pointed it at the Bludger. "Finite!" he said as the bludger exploded. "Madam Hooch will get a backup Bludger and the game will resume momentarily."

Ten minutes later the game resumed with the backup Bludger. The new Bludger did not have the same problems its predecessor did and the game proceeded as normal with Harry catching the snitch and winning the game.

The next day Harry led Hermione and Ron into Willow and Dawn's office.

"Harry?" Dawn said.

"You remember when Ron and I missed the train," Harry said as Dawn nodded. "It was this house elf by the name of Dobby. He stopped the barrier from letting us through."

"Why?"

"Apparently to keep me safe," Harry said. "Then yesterday, the Bludger, he did that."

"Why?" Hermione wondered.

"Again to keep me safe," Harry said.

"What a way to keep you safe, grievously injured and at home with your aunt and uncle," Ron said.

"I know," Harry said. "He then let slip about the Chamber of Secrets being open. But he clammed up before I could get more out of him."

"Ah good you both are here."

They turned to see Dumbledore standing in the doorway.

"Dawn, Harry with me, please," he said. "Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger please return to your common room for now. I will let Harry send for you later."

Hermione and Ron looked at each other and then turned and left.

"What is it, Professor?" Harry asked as he and Dawn followed Dumbledore out of the room and down the corridor.

"There has been another attack," Dumbledore said.

Harry looked at Dawn and then realization struck him. "Dawn, where is Willow?"

"I don't know," Dawn said. "She went to the library late last night to read up some more on basilisks so I know how to kill it. She never came back. I thought she might be in our office and that was where you found me, looking for her."

They entered the hospital wing to find Madam Pomfrey standing over a bed. It was not till they came up besides the healer they saw who it was … Willow.

"She has been petrified," Dumbledore said. "She was carrying this …" he held up a small compact mirror. "I assume she was using it to look around corners so that she would not look directly at the basilisk. She must have caught it's eyes in the mirror … and ,,,"

Harry and Dawn nodded in understanding as they sat in chairs on either side of the bed that Willow's petrified body laid upon.

"As soon as the mandrakes are ready," Dumbledore said. "She will be restored."

"Thank you, Albus," Dawn said as she looked at Willow tears falling from her eyes.

"This also confirms our suspicions," said Dumbledore, "that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Seven reviews for the first two chapters and then nothing at all for chapters three and four. What happened folks? With the number I got for the first two I would have thought there would have been at least one or two each for three and four not nothing at all.


	7. Chapter 6: Parseltongue

**Chapter 6: Parseltongue**

The news that Willow, a professor, had been attacked and was now lying as though dead in the hospital wing had spread through the entire school by Monday morning. The air was suddenly thick with rumor and suspicion. The first years were now moving around the castle in tight-knit groups, as though scared they would be attacked if they ventured forth alone.

In the second week of December Professor McGonagall came around as usual, collecting names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas. Harry, Ron, and Hermione signed her list as had Malfoy which made getting information out of him easier. For there would be even less students than they had hoped.

Dawn had stopped the Wiccan extra credit as well as Harry, Hermione and Ron's glamour instruction. Instead when not in class she spent her free time sitting in the hospital wing.

Harry, Ron and Hermione hoped they had enough instruction to pull off the glamour. The question now was who would restrain Crabbe and Goyle. Since Dawn was not able to help they would have to come up with something themselves.

In an attempt to get Dawn out of her funk, Dumbledore setup that she, Snape and Lockhart would host a dueling club. So at eight o'clock that evening Dawn walked in to the Great Hall just behind Ron, Harry and Hermione. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead.

"I wonder who'll be teaching us?" said Hermione as they edged into the chattering crowd. "Someone told me Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young—maybe it'll be him."

"As long as it's not—" Harry began, but he ended on a groan: Lockhart was walking onto the stage accompanied by none other than Snape.

A second later to everyone's surprise Dawn joined them, especially Harry, Hermione and Ron's.

Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called, "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions—for full details, see my published works. Let me introduce my assistants, Professor Snape and Professor Rosenberg-Summers." He flashed a wide smile. "Professor Snape tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry—you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed as Dawn moved out of the way. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.

"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

Dawn glanced to Harry as she heard him murmur, "I wouldn't bet on that."

"One—two—three—"

Lockhart and Snape swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: "Expelliarmus!" There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

Lockhart got unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.

Dawn made a motion of _come here_ to Lockhart's wand and it flew into her hand.

"Well, there you have it!" Lockhart said, tottering back onto the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm—as you see, I've lost my wand—ah, thank you, Professor Rosenberg-Summers—yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy—however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see …"

Snape was looking murderous. Possibly Lockhart had noticed, because he said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, Professor Rosenberg-Summers, if you two would like to help me—"

Dawn went around the room pairing those that Lockhart and Snape had yet to get to.

"Time to split up the dream team, I think," Snape sneered when he got to Harry and Ron. "Weasley, you can partner Finnigan. Potter—"

Harry moved automatically toward Hermione.

"I don't think so," said Snape, smiling coldly. "Mr. Malfoy, come over here. Let's see what you make of the famous Potter. And you, Miss Granger—you can partner Miss Bulstrode."

"Actually Miss Bulstrade can be paired with yourself, Professor Snape," Dawn said. "Miss Granger will be paired with me. I want to see if her Defense test scores are indicative of her practical work."

Snape nodded as Dawn moved beside Hermione.

"Thanks," Hermione whispered.

"No problem," Dawn whispered back.

Malfoy strutted over to Harry.

"How's Willow?" Hermione asked.

"The same," Dawn said with twinge of regret.

"Dawn, she'll be alright," Hermione said. "We'll stop the basilisk and she'll be alright. I promise you."

"Face your partners!" called Lockhart. "And bow!"

Hermione and Dawn faced each other and bowed.

"Wands at the ready!" shouted Lockhart. He noted Dawn didn't have a wand out. "Professor Rosenberg-Summers."

"I'm a Wiccan witch," Dawn said with a glance at Lockhart. "Wiccan spells are my primaries. Wand is only used when my wiccan magic won't work." She looked at Snape. "Besides I have a way of removing myself from the path of wand spells. Isn't that right Professor Snape."

"That is correct," Snape said. "I have witnessed it myself."

"Alright then," Lockhart said. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents—only to disarm them—we don't want any accidents—one … two … three—"

Dawn stood there and watched as Hermione cast her spell. And then she opened a portal and stepped through it. Everyone's attention turned to where Dawn had stood and watched as the portal closed, shocked.

"That kind of defeats the purpose," Snape said.

Everyone turned to see Dawn standing five feet behind Hermione.

"I know, but it was fun seeing everyone's reaction," Dawn said. "Hermione, again."

Just as Hermione was about to unleash a second disarming charm, Harry went flying hard. He stumbled, but everything still seemed to be working, and wasting no more time, Harry pointed his wand straight at Malfoy and shouted, "Rictusempra!"

A jet of silver light hit Malfoy in the stomach and he doubled up, wheezing.

"I said disarm only!" Lockhart shouted in alarm over the heads of the battling crowd, as Malfoy sank to his knees; Harry had hit him with a Tickling Charm, and he could barely move for laughing.

Gasping for breath, Malfoy pointed his wand at Harry's knees, choked, "Tarantallegra!" and the next second Harry's legs began to jerk around out of his control in a kind of quickstep.

"Stop! Stop!" screamed Lockhart, but Snape took charge.

"Finite Incantatem!" he shouted; Harry's feet stopped dancing, Malfoy stopped laughing, and they were able to look up.

That was when Dawn followed their gaze to the haze of greenish smoke hovering over the scene and she frowned as the smoke entered her.

"Dear, dear," said Lockhart, skittering through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels. "Up you go, Macmillan… Careful there, Miss Fawcett… Pinch it hard, it'll stop bleeding in a second, Boot—

"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," said Lockhart, standing flustered in the midst of the hall. He glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glinted, and looked quickly away. "Let's have a volunteer pair—Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you—"

"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," said Snape, gliding over like a large and malevolent bat. "Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox." Neville's round, pink face went pinker. "How about Malfoy and Potter?" said Snape with a twisted smile.

"How about you and me," Dawn said as she stepped up on the stage.

And that was when everyone noticed Dawn's normally blonde hair had gone completely black and her eyes as well.

Snape stepped up on the stage.

"Three—two—one—go!" Lockhart shouted.

Snape raised his wand quickly and bellowed, "Serpensortia!"

The end of his wand exploded as a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor between them, and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as the crowd backed swiftly away, clearing the floor.

Dawn did not move. "Is that the best you can do?" She looked at the snake and then to even her own surprise she spoke to it in its own language drawing its attention to her. _"You will attack no one."_

The snake bobbed its head. She waved her hand "Vipera Evanesca," she said and the snake vanished. And with it her hair returned to blonde as her eyes cleared.

Ron and Hermione rushed to Dawn and grabbed her steering her out of the hall as Harry followed. They did not say a word till they stepped inside Dawn's office.

"You're a Parselmouth," Ron said.

"I'm a what?" said Dawn.

"A Parselmouth!" said Ron. "You can talk to snakes!"

Dawn's eyes went wide. And then she remembered the snake Glory had created that snake demon. She had been the bait for it so that Buffy could slay it. They had set a trap for it away from the Magic Box and it had come right to them. She remembered now that she had spoken to it then as well.

"It has to be a common gift," she said.

"It's not," Ron said. "It's not a very common gift. Dawn, this is bad."

"What's bad?" said Harry. He let out a small sigh. He had not mentioned that he had heard Dawn as if she spoke to it in English. "Even I seem to have this gift."

Ron's eyes went wide.

"You understood what Dawn said?" Hermione asked.

Harry said. "She told it not to attack anyone."

"Oh, that's what you said to it?" Ron asked looking back at Dawn.

"Yeah that's what I said," Dawn said. "You didn't?"

Ron shook his head. "I heard you speaking Parseltongue," he said. "Snake language. You could have been saying anything. Between that and the black hair and black eyes it was just creepy, you know—"

Dawn gaped at Ron. "My hair and eyes were black?" Harry, Ron and Hermione nodded. "And now?"

"Their back to normal, blonde and blue," Hermione said.

Dawn let out a sigh. "I'm going to have to speak to Albus."

"So," Harry said, "what was wrong with Dawn telling the snake not to harm anyone?"

"Being able to talk to snakes was what Salazar Slytherin was famous for. That's why the symbol of Slytherin House is a serpent," Hermione said.

"Exactly," said Ron. "And now the whole school's going to think," he looked to Dawn, "you're his great-great-great-great-granddaughter or something—"

"But I'm not," said Dawn, with a panic she couldn't quite explain.

"You'll find that hard to prove," said Hermione. "He lived about a thousand years ago; for all we know, you could be."

"No I can't be," Dawn said. "Because I was never born …"

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at Dawn wondering what she meant.

Dawn let out a sigh, she knew that she would eventually have to tell Harry since he was Willow's nephew. "Twelve years ago. I was created to hide something called the Key. It opens the doorway between dimensions." She went on to tell them about her life in Sunnydale. When she finished they were in shock. She opened a portal. "This is the Key. I've learned to control it."

"But the day you told us about the Chamber, Willow opened a portal like that one," Harry said.

"That's because Willow had become at one point a dark witch. She siphoned off a portion of the Key in an attempt to end the world," Dawn said. "It was my love that brought her back. Why don't you three go back to the Gryffindor common room. I will answer any questions you have later. I have to see Albus."

Harry, Ron and Hermione left Dawn's office as Dawn opened a portal into Dumbledore's office and stepped through. "Albus?"

"I expected to see you," Dumbledore said as he rose from behind his desk. "I heard what happened in the Great Hall. The green smoke, the snake, that you spoke Parsletongue and the fact that your hair and eyes turned black."

"Willow got addicted to magic once," Dawn said. "We always assumed it was a result of magic addiction. You know outward signs that she was addicted."

"It very likely was not, it was very likely a result of dark magicks in use," Dumbledore said. "And the two of you are tied together in more than just your love for each other."

"We know the magic of the Key ties us together," Dawn said. "I've always been Willow's ground."

"And she yours," Dumbledore said. "And with Willow petrified you now have no ground. My suggestion till Willow is unpetrified is to restrict you to wand magic only. It will reduce the amount of temptation. Add on top of that wand magic is not as easy to get addicted to as Wiccan is."


	8. Chapter 7: Christmas

**Chapter 7: Christmas**

By next morning, the school was all in abuzz about Dawn possibly being the heir of Slytherin. No matter how many times she repeated she wasn't in her classes. Some of her students were now terrified of her and afraid they would do something.

In fact she had dismissed one class early simply because of how aloof her students were to her. She wondered the corridors listening other classes still in session. She passed the library and heard the whispers, thanks to her Slayer hearing, about her. Between Willow being petrified and this … she just didn't know what more she could do.

Dawn did not pay attention to where she was going when she walked straight into Hagrid, which if not for her Slayer reflexes would have knocked her backward onto the floor.

"Afternoon, Hagrid," Dawn said.

"Dawn," Hagrid said. "Didn't you have a class this hour?"

"Cancelled it," Dawn said. "Between Willow being petrified and the students being afraid of me because I can speak Parseltongue." She sighed. "What's with the rooster?"

"Second one killed this term," he explained. "It's either foxes or a Blood-Suckin' Bugbear, an' I need the headmaster's permission ter put a charm around the hen coop."

"I'd do it for you," Dawn said. "I know a ward that would protect the hen coop. But its Wiccan and I'm currently restricted to wand only."

"Is it because of …" he motioned towards her hair.

Dawn nodded. "Yeah. When I, like Willow, go black hair and black eyed. It's the dark magicks at work. At one time Willow thought it was because I'm just so powerful. But I'm not so sure anymore. I wish I knew more about the Key. I could tell you then. Well I better get back to my classroom, my next subject is about to start."

Hagrid nodded and walked off.

Dawn made her way down a corridor, which was particularly dark; the torches had been extinguished by a strong, icy draft that was blowing through a loose windowpane. She was halfway down the passage when she tripped headlong over something lying on the floor.

Dawn turned to squint at what she'd fallen over. She saw Justin Finch-Fletchley lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of shock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. And that wasn't all. Next to him was another figure, the strangest sight Dawn had ever seen.

It was Nearly Headless Nick, no longer pearly-white and transparent, but black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor.

Dawn got to her feet and opened a portal. She leaned her head through into Albus office. "Albus!"

"Dawn, what is it?" Dumbledore said as he came up before her.

"Another attack," she said as she pulled her head back into the corridor. Dumbledore exited the portal a second later.

"This is most serious," Dumbledore said. "I know you were checking into this before Willow was petrified. Did you come up with anything on who was controlling the basilisk?"

"There was the possibility of Draco Malfoy," Dawn said. "He did make an idle threat when Mrs. Norris was found. Just before you, Willow, Severus, Minerva and Lockhart arrived Malfoy said and I quote, _You'll be next, Mudbloods!_ That doesn't prove anything of course. But Willow and I were teaching Harry, Ron and Hermione a glamour. Willow and I intended to delay Crabbe and Goyle while Harry and Ron took their places. I don't know who Hermione intended to replace she just said she had someone in mind. But they were going to find Malfoy and ask him questions to see if he knew anything. But with the fact I stopped teaching them the glamour I don't know if they are still going to do that or not." She looked at Justin and Nick. "I think I know how Justin was petrified. He saw the basilisk through Nick."

"That would make sense," Dumbledore said. "And since Nick is already dead."

Dawn nodded in agreement.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Dawn was glad when the Christmas holidays arrived. It meant most of the students were leaving. Add on top of that Buffy and Faith were coming to spend the holidays with her.

Christmas morning dawned, cold and white. Dawn woke to find several presents beneath the tree. The first one she found was for both her and Willow and for a moment she debated not opening it since it was addressed to both of them. When she did she found that Ron had given them a book about Quidditch. Hermione had got them matching stationary with their names stenciled on top. And Harry he had got them both a broomstick with the promise that he would teach them first to fly and then later to play Quidditch.

Dumbledore sent Dawn some of his favorite candy and note saying he would pick up Buffy, Faith and Joyce himself and that they would meet her at the feast.

When Dawn made it down to the Great Hall she noted it looked magnificent. Not only were there a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crisscrossing the ceiling, but enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry, from the ceiling.

As Dawn sat down she spotted Dumbledore standing at a side door. He opened it wide and Buffy, carrying Joyce, walked out with Faith.

Dawn jumped up and ran to her sister throwing her arms around Buffy just seconds after Buffy had handed Joyce to Faith.

"How are you holding up?" Buffy asked.

Buffy and Faith had gotten all the letters Dawn had written since coming to Hogwarts so they knew what had happened to Willow. And even if Dawn had wrote, Dumbledore told them.

"I'm okay," Dawn said.

"Don't lie to us, little D," Faith said. "We know you're not alright."

"Truth be told," Dawn said. "Not good. It's hard just getting through the day."

"I know it is," Buffy said. "We talked with Albus on the way. He consented till Willow is unpetrified that I can stay and help you with your classes."

"Thanks, Buffy," Dawn said, "that means a lot."

"Hey you want to hold your niece, little D," Faith said as Dawn nodded. She handed her sister-in-law her daughter.

And for the first time since Willow was petrified Dawn smiled.

Later during the feast Dawn noticed that Hermione ushered Ron and Harry out of the Great Hall. "Excuse me, Buffy, Faith. There's something I need to do." She got up and exited the hall.

"Dawn?" Harry exclaimed on seeing her.

"Do you have the glamour down?" she asked as Harry and Ron nodded. "Go on." She gave the pair of them directions to the Slytherin dormitories. "Hermione and I will take care of Crabbe and Goyle."

Harry and Ron cast their spell and then headed off down into the dungeons.

"How are we doing this?" Dawn asked Hermione.

"I've got it all worked out," Hermione said as she held up two plump chocolate cakes. "I've filled these with a simple Sleeping Draught. All we have to do is make sure Crabbe and Goyle find them. When it comes to food they are kind of greedy, so they're bound to eat them. Once they're asleep we'll safely hide them in a broom closet."

Dawn pulled out her wand and a levitation spell and the cupcakes floated into the air. And then they moved out of sight behind a couple suits of armor next to the front door. When t

Crabbe gleefully pointed out the cakes to Goyle and grabbed them. Grinning stupidly, they stuffed the cakes whole into their large mouths. For a moment, both of them chewed greedily, looks of triumph on their faces. Then, without the smallest change of expression, they both keeled over backward onto the floor.

Hermione and Dawn then hid Crabbe and Goyle in the nearby broom closet and returned to the feast to await Harry and Ron's return.

When they finally returned Harry and Ron could say what Malfoy knew in three words. "He doesn't know."

Dawn let out a sigh. "It's time to talk to Myrtle. I'll do it after Faith takes Joyce home."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

It was nearing the end of the holidays when Faith and Joyce left for home. Dawn walked towards Myrtle's bathroom when she heard wailing coming from within. As she pushed her way inside she could tell that Myrtle was hiding in one of the toilets.

It was dark in the bathroom because the candles had been extinguished in the great rush of water that had left both walls and floor soaking wet.

"Myrtle, what's wrong?" asked Dawn.

"Who's that?" glugged Myrtle miserably. "Come to throw something else at me?"

Dawn waded across to her stall and said, "Why would I throw something at you?"

"Don't ask me," Myrtle shouted, emerging with a wave of yet more water, which splashed onto the already sopping floor. "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me…"

"I'm sorry someone was very rude, Myrtle," Dawn said. "Can you tell me who threw it at you? I'll make sure their punished."

"I don't know … I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head," said Myrtle, glaring at them. "It's over there, it got washed out…"

Dawn looked under the sink where Myrtle was pointing. A small, thin book lay there. It had a shabby black cover and was as wet as everything else in the bathroom. She picked it up off the floor.

She saw at once that it was a diary, and the faded year on the cover told her it was fifty years old. She opened it. On the first page she could just make out the name _T. M. Riddle_ in smudged ink.

Dawn gasped out as a memory surged forth. She saw Harry and Ron in the bathroom looking at the front page of the book she held in her hand.

_"Hang on," said Ron, who had approached cautiously and was looking over Harry's shoulder. "I know that name… T. M. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago."_

_"How on earth d'you know that?" said Harry in amazement._

_"Because Filch made me polish his shield about fifty times in detention," said Ron resentfully. "That was the one I burped slugs all over. If you'd wiped slime off a name for an hour, you'd remember it, too."_

Dawn nodded as she peeled the wet pages apart and found they were completely blank. She quickly left the bathroom and headed for her suite and entered to find Buffy sitting on a couch. "What do you make of this?" she handed her sister the wet diary.

Buffy looked at it. "Looks to be just a wet diary. Though whoever owned it never used it."

"I went to talk to Myrtle," Dawn said. "Which by the way I forgot to ask her about her death. But she told me someone threw that at her. I know kids can be mean. But I know this is important since I had a flash of memory about it."

"Let's try something, then," Buffy said as she moved to a desk and pulled out a pen from her purse and wrote I am Buffy Summers, the Slayer.

The words shone momentarily on the page and then sank without trace. Then something happened.

Oozing back out of the page came words Buffy hadn't written.

"A Slayer, my word! Hello, Buffy Summers. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?"

These words, too, faded away.

Buffy looked to Dawn. "This is quite unusual."

"Agreed," Dawn said. "I want to know more. So let's see what Tom has to say. Tell him how I found it."

Buffy nodded as she wrote. "My sister found it. Someone tried to flush it down a toilet."

"Lucky that I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink. But I always knew that there would be those who would not want this diary read."

"What do you mean?" Buffy wrote.

"I mean that this diary holds memories of terrible things. Things that were covered up. Things that happened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"That's where Dawn and I are now," Buffy wrote.

"Ask him about the Chamber," Dawn said. "Maybe he knows a way in."

"Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets?" Buffy wrote.

Riddle's reply came quickly, his writing becoming untidier, as though he was hurrying to tell all he knew. "Of course I know about the Chamber of Secrets. In my day, they told us it was a legend, which did not exist. But this was a lie. In my fifth year, the Chamber was opened and the monster attacked several students, finally killing one.

"Tell him we know about Myrtle," Dawn said. "That she is a ghost."

"We know about Myrtle, she is a ghost now," Buffy wrote.

"I caught the person who'd opened the Chamber and he was expelled."

"Let me have the pen," Dawn said as Buffy handed it to her. She wrote, "This is Dawn, hello Voldemort. We know your lying now. Hagrid had a pet acromantula. And we know Slytherin's creature is a basilisk. We also know it was you that opened the Chamber." She then closed the book as she looked at her sister. "I'm going to let this dry out and then put it in my classroom. Maybe the student who threw this at Myrtle will wind up wanting it back. When they do …"

"We'll catch them," Buffy said.


	9. Chapter 8: Another Attack

**Chapter 8: Another Attack**

Lockhart seemed to think he himself had made the attacks stop. Dawn was on her way to her classroom when she saw Lockhart and McGonagall talking.

"I don't think there'll be any more trouble, Minerva," he said, tapping his nose knowingly and winking. "I think the Chamber has been locked for good this time. The culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught him. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on him." Dawn rolled her eyes as she looked at McGonagall who gave her a nod in agreement. "You know, what the school needs now is a morale-booster. Wash away the memories of last term! I won't say any more just now, but I think I know just the thing…"

He tapped his nose again and strode off.

"I don't understand why Albus even hired the idiot," Dawn said. "Anyone with half a brain would know half his books were works of fiction and the other half was likely plagiarized. Take his Voyages with Vampires for example. It's fiction, nothing more."

"I've had this same conversation with Albus myself," McGonagall said. "He said he knows now the mistake he made in hiring Gilderoy. And that even if Professor Binns does not return next year that he will not be asking Gilderoy back."

"Do we know what this sabbatical was?" Dawn wondered. "Isn't it kind of weird that a ghost who had not even known he was dead to suddenly want to take a sabbatical."

"Indeed it is," McGonagall said. "Albus and I think he may have finally seen the light and moved on. We'll know more next year."

Dawn found Lockhart's idea of a morale-booster became clear on February fourteenth when she and Buffy entered the Great Hall for breakfast.

The walls were all covered with large, lurid pink flowers. Worse still, heart-shaped confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling. Lockhart was wearing lurid pink robes to match the decorations and waved for silence. The teachers on either side of him were looking stony-faced.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all—and it doesn't end here!"

Dawn looked at Buffy and rolled her eyes as she wondered who had sent the idiot him cards. Probably teenage girls infatuated with him.

Lockhart clapped his hands and through the doors to the entrance hall marched a dozen surly-looking dwarfs. Not just any dwarfs, however.

Lockhart had them all wearing golden wings and carrying harps.

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" beamed Lockhart. "They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

Professor Flitwick buried his face in his hands. Snape was looking as though the first person to ask him for a Love Potion would be force-fed poison.

All day long, the dwarfs kept barging into Dawn and Buffy's classes to deliver valentines, to their annoyance.

At least with all the commotion Lockhart's dwarves made everyone seemed to forget that Dawn could speak Parsletongue.

Then one day when Dawn and Buffy were at lunch, someone snuck into their classroom and took Riddle's diary.

"I wish electronics worked here," Dawn said to Buffy when they found the diary missing. "I would have put up a video camera."

And then she heard it.

"Kill this time… let me rip… tear…"

"Buffy," Dawn said.

"All I hear is the sound of something hissing," Buffy said.

They rushed out of their classroom and down the hall following the voice. They found Colin Creevey lying on the floor his camera held in front of his eyes.

"Is he?" Buffy asked as Dawn knelt down next to Colin.

"He's petrified," Dawn said. "I'd say looking through the camera is what saved him." She opened a portal and stuck her head through. "Albus, another attack."

A second later Dumbledore had joined then and sighed.

"He's petrified, I think the camera saved his life," Dawn said.

"Maybe he caught who is controlling the basilisk on film," Dumbledore said as he took the camera from Colin's hands and opened it.

The film was melted.

"So much for that," Buffy said. "We were on our way to Myrtle when Dawn heard it again."

Dumbledore nodded. "Tbe basilisk. As we found out you can speak Parsletongue and the basilisk is in effect a large snake. I would suggest you head straight for Myrtle. Find a way into the Chamber."

"Albus," Dawn said as she looked up at the wall. "It appears that Colin may not have been the only victim."

_Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever._

And then Dawn gasped out as a memory surged forth.

_Professor Flitwick burst into tears._

_"Who is it?" said Madam Hooch, who had sunk, weak-kneed, into a chair. "Which student?"_

_"Ginny Weasley," said Professor McGonagall._

"Ginny Weasley," Dawn said. "It's Ginny Weasley. Buffy, get Ron, Harry and Hermione and meet me in the Myrtle's bathroom."

"Ms. Summers-Lehane," Dumbledore said. "In my office is a sword. It could prove useful."

Buffy nodded and ran off.

Dawn turned and took off in another direction. Harry felt Ron slide silently down onto the wardrobe floor beside him.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Moaning Myrtle was sitting on the tank of the end toilet.

"Oh, it's you," she said when she saw Dawn. "What do you want this time?"

"To ask you how you died," said Dawn.

Myrtle's whole aspect changed at once. She looked as though she had never been asked such a flattering question.

"Ooooh, it was dreadful," she said with relish. "It happened right in here. I died in this very stall. I remember it so well. I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then—" Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining. "I died."

"How?" said Dawn.

"No idea," said Myrtle in hushed tones. "I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away…" She looked dreamily at Dawn. "And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she'd ever laughed at my glasses."

"Where exactly did you see the eyes?" said Dawn.

"Somewhere there," said Myrtle, pointing vaguely toward the sink in front of her toilet.

Dawn hurried over to it just as Ron, Hermione, Harry and Buffy entered from the corridor.

"I can't believe it," Ron said. "Ginny?"

"Yes, Ron, I'm sorry," Dawn said. "But if I am not mistaken she met yet still live. We have a chance to rescue her."

She looked at the sink and examined every inch of it, inside and out, including the pipes below. And then she saw it: Scratched on the side of one of the copper taps was a tiny snake.

"That tap's never worked," said Myrtle brightly as Dawn tried to turn it.

"Dawn," said Ron. "Say something. Something in Parseltongue."

Dawn nodded as she stared at the tiny engraving, trying to imagine it was real. "Open up," she said.

"English," Buffy said.

Dawn dug down to the Key knowing that where the power to speak Parseltongue lay. "Open up," she said.

Except that the words weren't what she heard; a strange hissing had escaped her, and at once the tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. Next second, the sink began to move; the sink, in fact, sank, right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into.

Ron gasped. "I'm going down there," he said.

"No," Dawn said. "I want you, Hermione and Harry to remain here."

"I want to help Aunt Dawn," Harry said. "I need to help for Aunt Willow."

Dawn looked to Buffy.

"He's your nephew," Buffy said. "But now you know how I felt before you got Tom's memories."

Dawn nodded. "And remember how I helped you afterwards?"

Buffy nodded. "I do."

"Alright, Harry, you can go," Dawn said and looked at Hermione and Ron. "You two remain here. If were not back within an hour. You will notify Professor Dumbledore of where we went. Under no circumstances are you to follow us down." And then she stepped over the edge of the hole the retracting sink had revealed.

It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. Dawn could see more pipes branching off in all directions, but none as large as this one, which twisted and turned, sloping steeply downward, and she knew that she was falling deeper below the school than even the dungeons. Behind her she could hear Harry and Buffy.

And then, just as Dawn had begun to worry about what would happen when she hit the ground, the pipe leveled out, and she shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel large enough to stand in. Behind her Harry and Buffy shot out also.

"We must be miles under the school," said Harry, his voice echoing in the black tunnel.

"Under the lake, probably," said Dawn. "Which would explain why no one ever found the Chamber. It's actually not in the school."

All three of them turned to stare into the darkness ahead.

"Lumos!" Harry muttered to his wand and it lit up.

"C'mon," Dawn said and off they went, their footsteps slapping loudly on the wet floor.

"Remember," Dawn said quietly as they walked cautiously forward, "any sign of movement, close your eyes right away…"

But the tunnel was quiet as the grave, and the first unexpected sound they heard was a loud crunch as

"There's something up there—" said Harry.

Dawn and Buffy followed Harry's gaze and saw the skin of a huge serpent. "It's just its shedding," Dawn said as they passed the snake skin.

The tunnel turned and turned again. Buffy and Dawn's Slayer senses were tingling the closer they got to the Basilisk's lair. As they crept around yet another bend, they saw a solid wall ahead on which two entwined serpents were carved, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds.

Harry, Dawn and Buffy approached.

Harry put a hand on Dawn's. "If I can understand you when you speak Parseltongue. I want to know if I can speak it also."

Dawn nodded as Harry stepped up. "Open," said Harry, in a low, faint hiss.

The serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight, and Harry, shaking from head to foot, walked inside followed by Buffy and Dawn.


	10. Chapter 9: Chamber of Secrets

**Chapter 9: Chamber of Secrets**

They stood at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place.

"This is what we're going to do," Dawn said. "Harry, you protect Ginny. Buffy will take care of the basilisk." Buffy held up the sword that had been strapped to her back. "And I will deal with whoever is controlling it."

It was then that Buffy and Harry noticed Dawn's hair had gone black.

"Dawn," Buffy said.

"I know," Dawn said. "You and Harry will be my ground. If I delve too far off the deep end you two will pull me back."

Harry and Buffy looked at each other and then nodded.

They moved forward between the serpentine columns. Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. As they drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall.

They craned their necks to look up into the giant face above: It was ancient and monkeyish, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And between the feet, facedown, lay a small, black-robed figure with flaming-red hair.

"Ginny!" Harry muttered, sprinting to her and dropping to his knees as Buffy and Dawn followed.. "Ginny—don't be dead—please don't be dead—" He flung his wand aside, grabbed Ginny's shoulders, and turned her over. Her face was white as marble, and as cold, yet her eyes were closed, so she wasn't Petrified. But then she must be—

"Ginny, please wake up," Harry muttered desperately, shaking her. Ginny's head lolled hopelessly from side to side.

"She won't wake," said a soft voice.

Harry jumped and spun around on his knees.

Buffy and Dawn too spun around to face the voice.

A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though Harry were looking at him through a misted window.

"Hello, Riddle," Dawn said. "Or should I say Voldemort."

"Ah you must be the sister," Riddle said as he glanced at Buffy. "Which would make you the Slayer."

"Actually," Buffy said. "We're both Slayers."

"Impossible," Riddle said. "There is only one at a time. One dies and the next one is called."

"That is no longer the case," Dawn said.

"What d'you mean, she won't wake?" Harry said desperately. "She's not—she's not—?"

"She's still alive," said Riddle. "But only just."

They stared at Riddle, who had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago, yet here he stood, a weird, misty light shining about him, not a day older than sixteen.

"Are you a ghost?" Harry said uncertainly.

"A memory," said Dawn.

"Correct," Riddle agreed. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."

He pointed toward the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary Dawn had found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"You were working through, Ginny," Dawn said.

"Correct," Tom said.

"Harry, get Ginny out of here," Dawn said.

Harry, sweating, managed to hoist Ginny half off the floor, and bent to pick up his wand again.

But his wand had gone.

"Did you see—?" he asked looking at Buffy and Dawn. He then followed their gaze and saw that Riddle was twirling Harry's wand between his long fingers.

"You won't be needing it," Riddle said. "I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter. For the chance to see you. To speak to you."

"So you orchestrated the whole throwing the book away," Dawn said. "Hoping Harry would find it."

"Yes," Riddle said. "But instead you did. And my priorities changed. I wanted to meet you as well."

"How did Ginny get like this?" Harry wondered.

"He did it," Dawn answered. "You lured her in just as you tried to lure me and Buffy in."

"Quite right," Riddle said. "And I did. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes—how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with secondhand robes and books, how"—Riddle's eyes glinted—"how she didn't think famous,

good, great Harry Potter would ever like her. It's very boring, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl. But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. No one's ever understood me like you, Tom… I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in… It's like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket…"

Riddle laughed, a high, cold laugh that didn't suit him.

"If I say it myself, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted … I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her…"

"Ginny opened the Chamber," Buffy said. "At your behest."

Dawn's eyes went wide in understanding. "She strangled the school roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls. She set the Serpent of Slytherin on four muggle-borns, and Mrs. Norris."

"No," Harry whispered.

"Yes," said Riddle, calmly. "Of course, she didn't know what she was doing at first. It was very amusing. I wish you all could have seen her new diary entries … far more interesting, they became… Dear Tom," he recited, "I think I'm losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I don't know how they got there. Dear Tom, I can't remember what I did on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I've got paint all down my front. Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I'm pale and I'm not myself. I think he suspects me … There was another attack today and I don't know where I was. Tom, what am I going to do? I think I'm going mad … I think I'm the one attacking everyone, Tom!"

Harry's fists were clenched, the nails digging deep into his palms.

"It took a very long time for stupid little Ginny to stop trusting her diary," said Riddle. "But she finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of it. She didn't realize I was manipulating her. And that's where you were supposed to come in Harry. Instead you found it, Dawn. I knew from Ginny's writings who you are of course. A Wiccan witch and your wife was muggle-born. The great Harry Potter's aunt."

Dawn realized that Harry had likely told Ron and Hermione that Willow was his aunt.

"It was why I had Ginny set the serpent loose on your dear Willow. I knew it would drive Harry Potter insane with grief."

Dawn looked at Harry who nodded indicating he had grieved for Willow. He just had not mentioned it to her, Ron or Hermione.

"I was anxious of course to meet Harry Potter," Riddle said. "But I was pleased that you had gotten your hands on it. I thought with a little trickery on my part. What better host for my resurrection. One of the two strongest Wiccan witches in the world. But you had already seen through my trickery. The moment I told you that I had found the culprit for the attacks fifty years ago. You knew the truth, likely from Dumbledore."

"Well sorry to spoil your plans," Dawn said.

"You haven't spoiled anything," Riddle said. "I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still at school. But I wasn't going to waste those long years I'd spent searching for it. I decided to leave behind a diary, preserving my sixteen-year-old self in its pages, so that one day, with luck, I would be able to lead another in my footsteps, and finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work."

"I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall after the last attack and come down here to wait. She struggled and cried and became very boring. But there isn't much life left in her … She put too much into the diary, into me. Enough to let me leave its pages at last … I have been waiting for you all to appear since we arrived here. I knew you three would come."

"To business," said Riddle, still smiling broadly. "Twice—in your past, Harry, in my future—we have met. And twice I failed to kill you. How did you survive? Tell me everything. The longer you talk," he added softly, "the longer you stay alive."

Dawn smiled. "Love. Willow's sister, Harry's mother. Died for him. And love is one of the oldest of magicks. It provided him the protection against you. And now you face me. "

"So," Riddle said looking at Harry. "Your mother died to save you. Yes, that's a powerful counter-charm. I can see now … there is nothing special about you, after all. I wondered, you see. There are strange likenesses between us, after all. Even you must have noticed. Both half-bloods, orphans, raised by Muggles. Probably the three of us the only Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself. You and I Harry even look something alike… but after all, it was merely a lucky chance that saved you from me. That's all I wanted to know."

"Now I'm going to teach all three of you a little lesson. Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against famous Harry Potter, the Wiccan witch Dawn Rosenberg-Summers and the Slayer Buffy Summers-Lehane," Riddle said and then walked toward the statue and looked up into the stone face of Slytherin, high above him in the half-darkness. Riddle opened his mouth wide and hissed —but Harry and Dawn understood what he was saying …

_"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."_

Slytherin's gigantic stone face opened wider and wider, to make a huge black hole.

And something was stirring inside the statue's mouth. Something was slithering up from its depths.

"Buffy, you're up," Dawn said.

Buffy nodded as she unsheathed the sword Dumbledore had given her to use against the basilisk.

Harry and Dawn turned into each other so that they would not be able to look into the basilisk's eyes.

The giant serpant hit the stone floor of the Chamber. It uncoiled itself from Slytherin's mouth.

Then Riddle hissed. "_Kill them._"

Buffy moved away from the basilisk. "Dawn, tell me you have a way of blinding it."

A memory surged forth and Dawn saw Dumbledore's phoenix blinding the basilisk. She opened the portal and stuck her head in. "Albus, I need your pheonix."

As Dawn pulled her head out of the portal Fawkes flew out. The phoenix flew at the basilisk immediately and attacked the basilisk's eyes.

Fawkes was soaring around its head, and the basilisk was snapping furiously at him with fangs long and thin as sabers—Fawkes dived. His long golden beak sank out of sight and a sudden shower of dark blood spattered the floor. The snake's tail thrashed, narrowly missing Buffy, and before Dawn or Harry could shut their eyes, it turned—they looked straight into its face and saw that its eyes, both its great, bulbous yellow eyes, had been punctured by the phoenix; blood was streaming to the floor, and the snake was spitting in agony.

Dawn turned to Riddle and smiled. "Buffy, you can fight it now. It's blinded."

"Thanks, Dawnie," Buffy said as she turned to face the basilisk.

"NO!" Riddle screamed. "LEAVE THE BIRD! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE SLAYER IS BEHIND YOU! YOU CAN STILL SMELL HER! KILL HER! THEN COME BACK AND KILL HER SISTER AND THE BOY."

The basilisk's head was falling, its body coiling around, hitting pillars as it twisted to face Buffy. It lunged blindly and Buffy swung the sword and drove it to the hilt into the roof of the serpent's mouth—

But as warm blood drenched Buffy's arms, she felt a searing pain just above her elbow. One long, poisonous fang was sinking deeper and deeper into her arm and it splintered as the basilisk keeled over sideways and fell, twitching, to the floor.

"Go check on Buffy," Dawn said as Harry lifted Ginny and carried her next to his aunt's sister.

"You okay?" Harry asked.

Fawkes landed next to Buffy and laid its head on the spot where the serpent's fang had pierced her.

And then another memory surged forth and Dawn smiled. "And now for you, Riddle," she said as she ran over to the book and scooped it up. She ran to Buffy and Harry.

"The tooth, Harry," Dawn said. "I need the tooth."

Harry took the basilisk tooth from Buffy's arm where it had lodged and handed it to Dawn.

"Fawkes," Dawn said as she motioned toward her sister.

The phoenix nodded its head as its tears began to flow onto Buffy's wound. Dawn turned back to Riddle and smiled. "You won't be returning not this way." She then plunged the tooth straight into the heart of the book.

There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over Dawn's hands, flooding the floor. Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then—

He had gone. Harry's wand fell to the floor with a clatter and there was silence. Silence except for the steady drip drip of ink still oozing from the diary. The basilisk venom had burned a sizzling hole right through it.

Buffy looked up at her sister and smiled as her wound finished healing, thanks to Fawkes. "Let me guess you had another flash of memory?"

Dawn nodded. "That I did."

Then came a faint moan from next to them. Ginny was stirring. She sat up. Her bemused eyes traveled from the huge form of the dead basilisk, over Harry, Buffy and Dawn, then to the diary in Dawn's hand. She drew a great, shuddering gasp and tears began to pour down her face.

"Harry—oh, Harry—I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-couldn't say it in front of Percy—it was me, Harry—but I—I s-swear I d-didn't mean to—R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over—and—how did you kill that—that thing? W-where's Riddle? The last thing I r-remember is him coming out of the diary—"

"Actually Buffy killed the basilisk," Dawn said. "She's a Slayer and my sister." Buffy smiled as Ginny looked at her in appreciation. "And about Riddle, well I'm a seer on top of being a Slayer and a witch. I saw how to defeat Riddle. And I did."

"Wow," Ginny said.

"C'mon, let's get out of here—" Dawn said.

"I'm going to be expelled!" Ginny wept as Harry helped her awkwardly to her feet. "I've looked forward to coming to Hogwarts ever since B-Bill came and n-now I'll have to leave and—w-what'll Mum and Dad say?"

"Easy," Dawn said. "That it was not your fault. It is the fault of the person who gave you the diary. If not for that person you would never have been possessed."

"I don't know who gave me the diary," Ginny said.

"I think I know," Harry said. "Malfoy's father. He slipped it into Ginny's cauldron when we went shopping in Diagon Alley."

"We'll pay him a visit," Buffy said.

"And about your expulsion, Ginny," Dawn said. "I believe two Slayers, one of them a Hogwarts professor. Might be able to convince Dumbledore not to expel you, not that I expect him too."

Dawn opened a portal to the girl's bathroom and they stepped through.

"Ginny!" Ron pulled his sister into an embrace. "You're alive! I don't believe it! What happened? How—what—where did that bird come from?"

Fawkes had swooped through the portal after Ginny.

"He's Dumbledore's," said Harry, as he stepped through the portal.

Myrtle goggled at them. "You're alive," she said blankly to Harry, Buffy and Dawn.

"There's no need to sound so disappointed," Dawn said.

"Oh, well … I'd just been thinking … if you three had died, you'd have been welcome to share my toilet," said Myrtle.

"Urgh!" said Ron as they left the bathroom for the dark, deserted corridor outside.


	11. Chapter 10: Explanation

**Chapter 10: Explanation**

Dawn led the way along the corridor. They strode after her, and moments later, found themselves outside Professor Dumbledore's office. She gave the password and up the spiral staircase they went. She knocked on the door and heard a come in.

As they entered there was a scream.

"Ginny!"

It was Mrs. Weasley, who had been sitting crying in front of the fire. She leapt to her feet, closely followed by Mr. Weasley, and both of them flung themselves on their daughter.

Dumbledore stood by the mantelpiece, beaming, next to Professor McGonagall, who was taking great, steadying gasps, clutching her chest. Fawkes flew into the room and settled on his perch.

Dawn felt herself along with Harry being swept into Mrs. Weasley's arms. "You saved her! You saved her! How did you do it?"

"I think we'd all like to know that," said Professor McGonagall weakly.

"It is simple," Dawn said. "Over ten years ago. I was created to house something called the Key. It opened the doorway between dimensions. With time I learned magic and became a Wiccan witch and learned control of the Key. In the process things happened, I became a Potential, in line to be the next called should either my sister or sister-in-law die. I also became a Seer. I was given memories of someone from another dimension, another reality. In his dimension, my life, Buffy's life, our friends lives were one of a television show. For those of you who don't know what a television is. Think of it like a way of telling a story with moving pictures. I used those memories to make our lives better."

Dawn took a pause and smiled. "Then Albus learned that my wife Willow was still alive. He approached me and Willow to help protect Willow's nephew, Harry." Everyone who hadn't known looked to Harry, who nodded. "And then I realized I had more memories, this time of a set of movies, think of them like a play, but shown again on a television or in a movie theater. But this time was slightly different I also had memories of a set of books. These books and movies detailed Harry's life. From his first use of accidental magic through his final fight with Voldemort." She noticed several people flinched. "Sorry."

"Go on, Dawn," Dumbledore said.

Dawn nodded. "Like the first time around, the memories are fleeting. I know that eventually they will unlock completely. But I do remember things from time to time and what I don't remember I see in a vision. I saw several things throughout the last several months. And acting on those allowed me to save not only Harry from Voldemort … Sorry again … but also Ginny."

"But how did you save them?" McGonagall asked.

"While in the Chamber I remembered how the basilisk was blinded. I opened a portal," Dawn said opening a portal for demonstration purposes. "Much like this one." She closed it again. "I requested Fawkes from Albus. He graciously lent his phoenix who blinded the basilisk. Then Buffy, who is a Slayer, killed it. Then I had another memory surface." She held up the diary. "And stabbing this with a basilisk tooth. I was able to prevent Voldemort from returning. In essence saving Ginny."

"What interests me most," said Dumbledore gently, "is how Lord Voldemort managed to gain entrance to the Chamber."

"He enchanted Ginny," Dawn said. "It was the diary. He somehow managed to store in its pages his sixteen year old self."

Dumbledore took the diary and peered keenly at its burnt and soggy pages. "Brilliant," he said softly. "Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen." He turned around to the Weasleys, who were looking utterly bewildered."Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving the school … traveled far and wide … sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here."

"But, Ginny," said Mrs. Weasley. "What's our Ginny got to do with—with—him?"

"His d-diary!" Ginny sobbed. "I've b-been writing in it, and he's been w-writing back all year—"

"Ginny!" said Mr. Weasley, flabbergasted. "Haven't I taught you anything? What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain. Why didn't you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was clearly full of Dark Magic—"

"I d-didn't know," sobbed Ginny. "I found it inside the cauldron Mum got me. I th-thought someone had just left it in there and forgotten about it—"

"Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away," Dumbledore interrupted in a firm voice. "This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort." He strode over to the door and opened it. "Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up," he added, twinkling kindly down at her. "You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She's just giving out Mandrake juice—I daresay the basilisk's victims will be waking up any moment."

"So Aunt Willow's okay!" said Harry brightly.

"There has been no lasting harm done," said Dumbledore.

Mrs. Weasley led Ginny out, and Mr. Weasley followed, still looking deeply shaken.

"You know, Minerva," Dumbledore said thoughtfully to McGonagall, "I think all this merits a good feast. Might I ask you to go and alert the kitchens?"

"Right," said McGonagall crisply, also moving to the door. She left.

Dawn, Buffy, Hermione, Harry and Ron gazed at Dumbledore.

"I think," Buffy said. "That based on what you told me at Christmas that these three should be rewarded."

"I am in agreement," Dawn said.

Dumbledore smiled. "I too am in agreement. You all will receive Special Awards for Services to the School and—let me see—yes, I think two hundred points apiece for Gryffindor."

Ron went as brightly pink as Lockhart's valentine flowers.

"Now Hermione why don't you escort Ron to the infirmary. I think he would like to spend time with his sister. I want to talk to Buffy, Harry and Dawn."

Hermione led Ron out the door and closed it behind her.

"So you all met Tom Riddle," said Dumbledore thoughtfully. "I imagine he was most interested in you, Harry…"

"In all of us," Dawn said. "Yes, Harry in particular. But also in me, Willow and even Buffy."

"As he would be," Dumbledore said. "As he would be. In fact it would not surprise me that he would be interested in how you both speak Parseltongue. We'll start with you, Harry. You can speak Parseltongue, because Lord Voldemort—who is the last remaining descendant of Salazar Slytherin—can speak Parseltongue. Unless I'm much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar. Not something he intended to do, I'm sure…"

"Voldemort put a bit of himself in me?" Harry said, thunderstruck.

"It certainly seems so."

"So I should be in Slytherin," Harry said, looking desperately into Dumbledore's face. "The Sorting Hat said I should be in Slytherin. I bet it could see Slytherin's power in me, and it—"

"Put you in Gryffindor," said Dumbledore calmly. "Listen to me, Harry. You happen to have many qualities Salazar Slytherin prized in his handpicked students. His own very rare gift, Parseltongue—resourcefulness—determination—a certain disregard for rules," he added, his mustache quivering again. "Yet the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor. You know why that was. Think."

"It only put me in Gryffindor," said Harry in a defeated voice, "because I asked not to go in Slytherin…"

"Exactly," said Dumbledore, beaming once more. "Which makes you very different from Tom Riddle. It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."

"And what about Aunt Dawn?" Harry asked.

"The Key is the answer," Dumbledore said.

"Creatures of serpent construct can see the Key in its true form," Dawn said.

"More than that I believe," Dumbledore said. "We may never know how the Key itself was created. Or even why. But whatever was used to create the Key gave it the ability to be able to be seen and talk with those that can see it."

"So when I was just the Key, before I was created to house it," Dawn said. "I was …"

"Sentient, I believe so," Dumbledore said. "Now what you all need, is some food and sleep. I suggest you all go down to the feast, I will send Willow the moment she is awake to you all." Harry followed by Buffy walked toward the door. "Oh and before you leave, Harry. Have you made your decision on what we discussed last summer?"

Harry smiled and looked toward Dawn. "I'm going with Aunt Dawn and Aunt Willow," he said as he and Buffy walked out of the office.

Dumbledore smiled. Everything had worked out just as he had hoped. He knew with two supporting and nurturing aunts, one of them a seer unlike any he had ever seen before—even Trelawney. He was sure things would definitely be changing with Harry for the better.

He then looked to Dawn as if remembering she was still there. "What is it, Dawn?"

"There is this house elf," Dawn said. "He was the one that kept Harry and Ron from getting on the train. Then he was the one who was responsible for the Bludger. Both times were in effort to keep Harry safe. I'd like to reward him."

Dumbledore smiled and nodded as he slid the diary across his desk to her. "I believe you might want to return this to its rightful owner."

"Lucius Malfoy," Dawn said.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Dawn smiled as she watched Willow walk toward her down the length of the Great Hall. She looked to Buffy who nodded and motioned for Dawn to go. Dawn opened a portal and stepped through it to Willow's side and then she pulled Willow into a passionate kiss. In the background they heard the students, mostly the higher years, excitement as they watched the two of them.

The rest of the final term passed in a haze of blazing sunshine. Hogwarts was back to normal with only a few, small differences—everyone now wanted to be in Dawn and Willow's Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. Buffy had returned home in preparation for Dawn, Willow and Harry's homecoming.

Too soon, it was time for the journey home on the Hogwarts Express. Dawn, Willow, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny got a compartment to themselves. Dawn and Willow watched as Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George and Ginny made the most of the last few hours in which they were allowed to do magic before the holidays. They played Exploding Snap, set off the very last of Fred and George's Filibuster fireworks, and practiced disarming each other by magic. Harry was getting very good at it.

The Hogwarts Express slowed and finally stopped.

Dawn pulled out a quill and a bit of parchment and turned to Ron and Hermione. "This is called a telephone number," she told Ron, scribbling it twice, tearing the parchment in two, and handing it to both of them.

"I told your dad how to use a telephone last summer—he'll know," Harry explained. "Call me at Aunt Dawn and Aunt Willow's, okay?"

Hermione looked at Dawn and Willow and smiled. She knew that Harry's newfound aunts were proud of all he had accomplished that year. Including the fact that he wanted to move in with them.

Dawn smiled as she opened a portal and ushered Harry through it.


	12. Chapter 11: International Slayer's Concl

**Chapter 11: International Slayer's Council**

Willow walked through the barrier at King's Cross and looked around for her sister. She tried to keep a smile on her face when she spotted Petunia with her husband and son. She walked over to them. "Hello, Tuney."

Petunia Dursley's eyes went wide. Only two people had ever called her Tuney. One was dead and the other she hadn't seen for a very long time and had long since thought she would never see again. "Willow?"

"Yes, Tuney."

"Who is this Petunia," Vernon asked.

"My sister, Willow," Petunia said. "When mom and dad passed away she was adopted by an American couple."

"I'm here because of Harry," Willow said and she consciously made her eyes go solid black.

Petunia and Vernon both took a step back from Willow.

"Harry is not returning to your home. How could you have treated Lily's son that way?" Willow asked.

"W-w-what way ar-r-re you talking about?" Petunia stuttered.

"Making him live in a cupboard till he got his letter from Hogwarts. Making him be your servant. Then putting bars on his windows, locks on his door, Seriously," Willow said shaking with anger. "I should report you for abuse, Tuney. You are lucky I don't. I will stop by your house and pick up his things. I am ashamed to call you sister."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Buffy showed Harry around the ISC headquarters after Dawn had dropped him off. They were in the command center. It looked just like it sounded. Banks of TVs lined the walls.

Xander had thought they needed to be able to keep track of the Slayers for their own protection. So each Slayer had a radio and a camera. That way if the Slayers lost contact a retrieval team would be sent in immediately to extract them if they were still alive.

"Xander," Buffy said. "I'd like you to meet Willow's nephew Harry Potter."

Xander looked to Harry and shook the boy's hand. "It's nice to meet you, Harry. It's nice not to be one of only two male Scoobies around anymore."

"And this is his wife, Anya," Buffy said as she motioned to Anya came through the door behind them carrying a tray of food. She was followed by a little girl no older than 9. "And their daughter Jessica."

"Hi," Anya and Jessica said.

Buffy led Harry out of the command center and through the rest of the headquarters. She introduced him to each of the Slayers. "I hope you don't mind living with a bunch of girls."

"I think," Harry said, "as long as I am not forced to do everything with them, I'll be fine."

"Good," Buffy said with a smile.

"Hey, B," Faith said as she walked down the corridor holding Joyce. "Hey, H. Taking the tour I see. What do you think?"

"This place is amazing," Harry said.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Dawn knocked on the door and waited till it opened by a house elf. This must be Dobby, she thought. "I'm here to see, Lucius Malfoy. Tell him Dawn Rosenberg-Summers is here."

Dobby nodded and led Dawn into the foyer where he left her. A second later Lucius walked into the foyer.

"What can I do for you, mudblood?" Lucius asked knowing from his son who Dawn was.

Dawn smiled as her hair with from blonde to black. "I don't want to hear that term ever again. Or I will turn you into a toad. And don't for a second think I don't have the power to do it." She held up Riddle's diary. "The reason I came today is because of this. I believe it belongs to you." She thrust it into his hand. "The next time you try and harm Harry or any student at Hogwarts I will make good on my threat."

Lucius frowned as he thrust the book at Dobby, who took it.

Dawn smiled her plan was working.

"Get out of my home," Lucius said.

Dawn motioned toward Dobby. "Dobby, why don't you see what your master has given you."

Dobby opened the book and smiled at what he saw, a sock. "Master has given Dobby a sock. Dobby is free."

"What?" Lucius said as he turned to look at Dobby and the opened book. There lying in the crease was a sock. He looked back at Dawn as he raised his wand. "You have cost me my servant."

"You will not harm Dawn Rosenberg-Summers!" Dobby shouted.

There was a loud bang, and Lucius was thrown backward.

"Come on, Dobby," Dawn said as she opened a portal. "How would you like a job?"

"A job?" Dobby asked as they stepped through the portal into the ISC.

"Yes," Dawn said. "You will be paid of course. I think we could use your services here at the International Slayers Council."

Dobby smiled.


	13. Chapter 12: Summer

**Author's Note: **I'm upping a second chapter since the last one was so short. Not that this one is much longer.

If you came here through the Just In link you might want to go back to chapter 11 since you likely have not read it.

* * *

**Chapter 12: Summer**

Willow and Dawn watched from across the common room of the ISC as Harry did his homework. They watched as Harry pushed his round glasses up the bridge of his nose, they had talked to him about possibly getting contacts. But Harry had yet to give them an answer.

Harry put his quill between his teeth and reached for his ink bottle and a roll of parchment. That was another thing they had discussed with him, using pen and paper when not at Hogwarts. He still continued to use the quill, ink and parchment though.

Willow and Dawn had wanted to teach Harry Wiccan magic over the summer. But there had been a problem. First off Harry could not perform magic outside of school till his seventeenth birthday. Secondly Wiccan magic was highly regulated. It seemed that the Ministry did not want wizard and witches learning there were other ways to do magic. Both Dawn and Willow had been reprimanded by the Ministry for the extra credit classes the year before by the Ministry.

The Ministry had actually wanted to snap Willow and Dawn's wands but realized that would be pointless since the two of them were capable Wiccan witches. Easily on the level of Dumbledore and Voldemort. It was better to have them on the side of the Ministry than to have them side with Voldemort.

The phone that had been setup for Harry's friends to call rang and Dawn reached over and picked it up. "International Slayer's Council, Dawn Rosenberg-Summers speaking."

"HELLO? HELLO? CAN YOU HEAR ME? I—WANT—TO—TALK—TO—HARRY—POTTER!"

Ron was yelling so loudly that Dawn held the receiver a foot away from her ear.

"Ron," Dawn said, "you don't have to yell. I can hear you fine."

"Sorry," Ron said sheepishly. "Is Harry there?"

"Yeah, I'll get him," Dawn said as she held out the phone. "Harry, its Ron."

Harry smiled as he walked over to Dawn and took the phone from her. "Thanks, Aunt Dawn," he said as he put the phone to his ear. "Hi, Ron." He and Ron talked for a half an hour.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Harry walked into the common room two weeks later and stared at the cake that sat on the center table. He looked around at everyone; slayers, Xander, Giles, Buffy, Faith, Jessica, Joyce (held in Buffy's arms, Dawn and Faith. And he smiled at all of them who had become family to him over the course of the summer.

"Happy birthday, Harry," they all said.

Harry got as many presents as his cousin did. He was excited that they all wanted to celebrate his birthday.

The first gift was from the Weasley family. It included a newspaper clipping about Ron's father winning an award. With the clipping was a letter from Ron about the trip. Inside the wrapped package was a Pocket Sneakoscope with a letter from Ron telling all about it.

The second gift was from Hermione. She too had written a letter apologizing for not calling and explaining she was with her family in France. In the package was a broomstick servicing kit.

"Wow, Hermione!" Harry said.

The third gift was from Hagrid. Harry tore off the top layer of paper and glimpsed something green and leathery, but before he could unwrap it properly, the parcel gave a strange quiver, and whatever was inside it snapped loudly—as though it had jaws.

Harry froze. "Uh Aunt Dawn, Aunt Willow."

Dawn and Willow levitated the package and telekinetically removed the paper safely to reveal a book, emblazoned with the golden title _The Monster Book of Monsters_.

"It seems this book maybe enchanted," Willow said. "We'll store it someplace safe."

Harry nodded in agreement as Willow took the book out of the room to store it someplace safe.

Next came Dawn and Willow's gift, a book: _History of Magic._

"This book details Wiccan magic history," Dawn said as Willow returned. "Which will differ of course from the History of Magic you study at Hogwarts."

"We know you would want to take it with you to Hogwarts, maybe even show it to Hermione," Willow said. "But I'd suggest leaving it in your room since we found out that the Ministry pretty much banned you from learning Wiccan magic. If Hermione and Ron don't go on vacation next year we'll invite them over and you can show them then."

Harry nodded. "Okay, Aunt Dawn … Aunt Willow."

Next came Buffy and Faith's gift. Another book: _The Mythology and Methodology of the Vampire Slayer_.

"That was one of the books I wanted to read when I was Dawn's age and re-examining my life as the Slayer," Buffy said.

"Thanks Aunt Buffy," Harry said. "Aunt Faith."

Xander's gift came next, a tool belt with tools. "No man should be without a tool belt. Before we started up the ISC I was a construction worker. I enjoyed working with my hands."

"And he was definitely good with his hands," Anya added.

Harry smiled. "Thanks Uncle Xander … Aunt Anya."

Last came Giles gift a collapsible sword.

"In case you ever have to go into that Forbidden Forrest you mentioned Harry, you have a weapon. I will train you how to use it properly till you return to Hogwarts. And then Dawn said she would help you get a handle of it afterwards," Giles said.

"Thanks Uncle Giles," Harry said.

Harry looked at each of the gifts before him and at the cake and he smiled. This was the best birthday he had ever had.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

The Summer passed with little excitement. Harry got the Daily Prophet delivered to him and one day he saw an article in the paper. "Aunt Dawn, Aunt Willow," he called.

Dawn and Willow came in and Harry showed them the article. They looked at the large photograph of a sunken-faced man with long, matted hair blinked slowly from the front page.

"He was on the news," Harry said.

"Likely warning non-magical folks to steer clear," Dawn said as she walked over to a phone and dialed. "Buffy. That guy we saw on the news who escaped prison. Seems he's a wizard. Let the Slayers know so they know not to tangle with him."

"Agreed," came Buffy's reply.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

A couple days before Dawn, Willow and Harry were due to get Harry's school supplies. A man entered the lobby of the ISC.

"Yes, can I help you?" Samantha, one of the Slayers who regularly manned the desk, said.

"I am here to see Dawn and Willow Rosenberg-Summers," the man said. "Tell them Minister Cornelius Fudge is here to see them."

Samantha nodded as she picked up the phone and dialed. "Dawn, there is a man by the name of Cornelius Fudge here to see you and Willow. He said he's a minister. Alright." She looked to Fudge. "Dawn will be right down."

A portal opened and Dawn stepped out of it. "What do you want?" she asked.

"To speak to you about Harry," Fudge said.

"About?" Dawn asked.

"Sirius Black," Fudge said.

Dawn frowned and motioned for Fudge to continue.

"I would prefer Harry not wander into Muggle London," Fudge said. "At least not unchaperoned. He is too keeping here and to Diagon Alley. And you're to have him back here before dark each night. Sure you'll understand."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand," Dawn said. "Myself and Willow are Harry's legal guardians now. We dictate what Harry can and cannot do, not the Ministry of Magic. The only reason we aren't teaching him Wiccan magic is because of your idiotic law."

"And you are lucky we chose not to have you sent to Azkaban," Fudge said.

"No that's not why were not in that prison. Were far too powerful, is why. You know you can't hold us," Dawn said. "Get out of my sight. The next time you make demands you will be turned into a toad."

Fudge turned and walked out fuming.


	14. Chapter 13: Diagon Alley

**Author's Note: **A reviewer asked. Why are Willow and Dawn following the law on not teaching Wiccan magic, especially to Harry. My thinking was this at the time I wrote the chapter. Harry is still a British citizen. While Dawn and Willow are Americans, Harry still has to abide by British laws. And technically so do Dawn and Willow if they want to continue to be Harry's legal guardians.

That may change after what happens in this chapter (namely the Will reading).

* * *

**Chapter 13: Diagon Alley**

Harry tapped the third brick from the left above the trash bin, and stood back with Willow and Dawn as the archway into Diagon Alley opened in the wall.

As they walked toward Gringotts they heard snatches of conversation, some about their purchases and some about Sirius Black. When they entered the Goblin bank they approached a teller. Harry intended to give Willow some of his gold since he was sure his mom would have wanted her to have some.

"Yes," one of the goblins said.

"I'd like to open a vault for my aunt and transfer some of my money into hers.

"Name."

"Willow Rosenberg-Summers," Willow said.

"Maiden name."

"Why do you need her maiden name," Dawn wondered.

"In case she already has a vault of course," the goblin said.

"Rosenberg," Willow said.

"Evans," Harry said as Willow looked at him. "Aunt Willow was adopted. Her birth name was Willow Evans."

The goblin nodded and checked his records. "We already have a vault for a Willow Evans. It was setup by Lily Anne Evans-Potter on October 30th, 2001. The Key was left in our care. If you will please prick your finger. We need to verify your identity."

Willow nodded and pricked her finger as a drop of blood dropped onto a sheet of paper the goblin produced. As they watched a family tree appeared.

The family tree listed her parents and that they were muggles. It listed Petunia and that she was married to Vernon Dursley and that they had one child, Dudley. It listed them as muggles also. Then it listed Lily being married to James Potter with one son, Harry. That Lily was a muggle-born witch and James was a pureblood wizard and it listed the date both Lily and James had died. It then listed Harry and that he was a halfblood wizard. Then it listed Willow and said she was married to Dawn and that the both of them were muggle-born witches.

"Your claim is confirmed," the goblin said. "There are some things to note. James and Lily Potter's will needs to be read now that you have returned." He led them into a side room and then left them there. He returned a moment later with a parchment. "We James and Lily Potter of the House of Potter, Gryffindor and Peverell hereby leave guardianship of Harry James Potter to his aunt Willow Danielle Evans. We leave the bulk of our monies and property to our son, Harry. We leave Willow Danielle Evans the sum of ten thousand galleons. We name Willow Danielle Evans to be the ad litem representative for the seats of Potter, Gryffindor and Peverell on the Wizengamot and that she shall hold those seats till Harry James Potter turns eighteen. At which point Harry James Potter will claim those seats if he so chooses. We leave the Evans family home in Cokeworth, England to Willow Danielle Evans."

"I didn't know that the family home was even owned by Lily," Willow said.

"We did some research," the goblin said, "when we learned of the muggle home. We have witches and wizards who work in the muggle world for this very reason. The estate of your parents was left in trust for when you and your sisters each turned eighteen. Gringotts successfully exchanged the monetary portion of the estate and added it to the monies left by James and Lily Potter. Bringing the total contents of your vault with interest to be fifty thousand galleons." He then handed Willow a title deed and the key to the Evans family home. "And this is the deed to the muggle home. You will have to of course register it. If you see James Connery at the Land Registry office, he is our representative in the office, he will be able to get the muggle home transferred into your name."

"Thanks," Willow said and then she sign a few forms and was handed the key to her vault. Then she and Harry filled their bags with money.

When they exited Gringotts they passed Quality Quidditch Supplies with a large number of people gathered around the shop.

Curious to know what the crowd in the shop was staring at, Harry edged his way inside and squeezed in among the excited witches and wizards until he glimpsed a newly erected podium, on which was mounted a broom.

"Just come out—prototype—" a square-jawed wizard was telling his companion.

"It's the fastest broom in the world, isn't it, Dad?" squeaked a boy younger than Harry, who was swinging off his father's arm.

"Irish International Side's just put in an order for seven of these beauties!" the proprietor of the shop told the crowd. "And they're favorites for the World Cup!"

A large witch in front of Harry moved, and he was able to read the sign next to the broom:

This state-of-the-art racing broom sports a stream-lined, superfine handle of ash, treated with a diamond-hard polish and handnumbered with its own registration number. Each individually selected birch twig in the broomtail has been honed to aerodynamic perfection, giving the Firebolt unsurpassable balance and pinpoint precision. The Firebolt has an acceleration of 150 miles an hour in ten seconds and incorporates an unbreakable Braking Charm. Price on request.

Even though Harry had wanted to buy the Firebolt they passed it by. They went to the Apothecary to replenish his store of potions ingredients, and as Harry's school robes were now several inches too short in the arm and leg, they visited Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and bought new ones.

Next stop was Harry's new schoolbooks, which would include those for two new subjects, Care of Magical Creatures and Divination.

They got a surprise as they looked in at the bookshop window. Instead of the usual display of gold-embossed spellbooks the size of paving slabs, there was a large iron cage behind the glass that held about a hundred copies of The Monster Book of Monsters. Torn pages were flying everywhere as the books grappled with each other, locked together in furious wrestling matches and snapping aggressively.

Harry pulled his booklist out of his pocket and consulted it for the first time. The Monster Book of Monsters was listed as the required book for Care of Magical Creatures.

"Now we know why Hagrid sent you that back," Willow said with a sigh.

"Yeah," Harry agreed as they entered Flourish and Blotts.

The manager came hurrying toward them. "Hogwarts?" he said abruptly. "Come to get your new books?"

"Yes," said Harry, "I need—"

"Get out of the way," said the manager impatiently, brushing Harry, Dawn and Willow aside. He drew on a pair of very thick gloves, picked up a large, knobbly walking stick, and proceeded toward the door of the Monster Books' cage.

"Hang on," said Harry quickly, "I've already got one of those."

"Have you?" A look of enormous relief spread over the manager's face. "Thank heavens for that. I've been bitten five times already this morning—"

"Yeah I don't understand why Hagrid wanted to use that book for his textbook," Dawn said with a shake of her head. "The moment Harry got it we put it securely away."

A loud ripping noise rent the air; two of the Monster Books had seized a third and were pulling it apart.

"Stop it! Stop it!" cried the manager, poking the walking stick through the bars and knocking the books apart. "I'm never stocking them again, never! It's been bedlam! I thought we'd seen the worst when we bought two hundred copies of the Invisible Book of Invisibility—cost a fortune, and we never found them … Well … is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Yes," said Harry, looking down his booklist, "I need Unfogging the Future by Cassandra Vablatsky."

"Ah, starting Divination, are you?" said the manager, stripping off his gloves and leading them into the back of the shop, where there was a corner devoted to fortune-telling. A small table was stacked with volumes such as Predicting the Unpredictable: Insulate Yourself Against Shocks and Broken Balls: When Fortunes Turn Foul.

"Here you are," said the manager, who had climbed a set of steps to take down a thick, black-bound book. "Unfogging the Future. Very good guide to all your basic fortune-telling methods—palmistry, crystal balls, bird entrails—"

"Premonition?" Dawn asked.

"Uh," the manager said. "I don't know if that one is included. Why?"

"I'm a seer," Dawn said. "I get visions of the future."

"Ah," the manager said. "And you want to make sure the young sir is being taught about what you do?"

"More or less," Dawn said. "I know Harry will have questions about what I can see, how I see them, etc. Some of the questions I may not be able to answer. It would be nice if he could learn them in class."

"Of course," the manager said. "Anything else?"

"Yes," said Harry consulting his booklist. "Er—I need Intermediate Transfiguration and The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Three."

Dawn, Willow and Harry emerged from Flourish and Blotts ten minutes later with Harry's new books in their arms and made their way back towards the Leaky Cauldron. They intended to eat lunch there before driving back to the ISC. As they passed Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor they heard …

"Harry! HARRY!"

They looked toward the sounds of the voice and saw Ron and Hermione waving frantically at them.

"How were your vacations?" Dawn asked.

"Wonderful," Hermione and Ron answered.

"So, have you got all your new books and stuff?" Harry asked.

"Look at this," said Ron, pulling a long thin box out of a bag and opening it. "Brand-new wand. Fourteen inches, willow, containing one unicorn tail-hair. And we've got all our books—" He pointed at a large bag under his chair. "What about those Monster Books, eh? The assistant nearly cried when we said we wanted two."

"What's all that, Hermione?" Harry asked, pointing at not one but three bulging bags in the chair next to her. "Well, I'm taking more new subjects than you, aren't I?" said Hermione. "Those are my books for Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Study of Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies—"

"What are you doing Muggle Studies for?" said Ron, rolling his eyes at Harry. "You're Muggle-born! Your mum and dad are Muggles! You already know all about Muggles!"

"So," Dawn said. "It's the same reason Willow and I gave Harry a History of Magic book. It tells the story of magic from the Wiccan side of things. It's interesting to see the differences between the two. I wouldn't mind sitting in on a Muggle Studies class myself. I'm curious to see what they think of us."

"Are you planning to eat or sleep at all this year, Hermione?" asked Harry, while Ron sniggered. Hermione ignored them.

"That is a good question," Willow said. "That's more than the normal amount of classes."

"I've still got ten Galleons," Hermione said ignoring the question. She checked her purse instead. "It's my birthday in September, and Mum and Dad gave me some money to get myself an early birthday present."

"How about a nice book?" said Ron innocently.

"No, I don't think so," said Hermione composedly. "I really want an owl. I mean, Harry's got Hedwig and you've got Errol—"

"I haven't," said Ron. "Errol's a family owl. All I've got is Scabbers." He pulled his pet rat out of his pocket. "And I want to get him checked over," he added, placing Scabbers on the table in front of them. "I don't think Egypt agreed with him."

Scabbers was looking thinner than usual, and there was a definite droop to his whiskers.

"There's a magical creature shop just over there," said Harry motion in the direction of the shop. "You could see if they've got anything for Scabbers, and Hermione can get her owl."

So they paid for their ice cream and crossed the street to the Magical Menagerie.

There wasn't much room inside. Every inch of wall was hidden by cages. It was smelly and very noisy because the occupants of these cages were all squeaking, squawking, jabbering, or hissing. The witch behind the counter was already advising a wizard on the care of double-ended newts, so Harry, Ron, and Hermione waited, examining the cages.

A pair of enormous purple toads sat gulping wetly and feasting on dead blowflies. A gigantic tortoise with a jewel-encrusted shell was glittering near the window. Poisonous orange snails were oozing slowly up the side of their glass tank, and a fat white rabbit kept changing into a silk top hat and back again with a loud popping noise. Then there were cats of every color, a noisy cage of ravens, a basket of funny custard-colored furballs that were humming loudly, and on the counter, a vast cage of sleek black rats that were playing some sort of skipping game using their long, bald tails.

The double-ended newt wizard left, and Ron approached the counter.

"It's my rat," he told the witch. "He been a bit off-color ever since I brought him back from Egypt."

"Bang him on the counter," said the witch, pulling a pair of heavy black spectacles out of her pocket.

Ron lifted Scabbers out of his inside pocket and placed him next to the cage of his fellow rats, who stopped their skipping tricks and scuffled to the wire for a better look. Next to the glossy rats in the cage, he looked especially woebegone.

"Hm," said the witch, picking up Scabbers. "How old is this rat?"

"Dunno," said Ron. "Quite old. He used to belong to my brother."

"What powers does he have?" said the witch, examining Scabbers closely.

"Er—" The truth was that Scabbers had never shown the faintest trace of interesting powers. The witch's eyes moved from Scabbers's tattered left ear to his front paw, which had a toe missing, and tutted loudly.

"He's been through the mill, this one," she said.

"He was like that when Percy gave him to me," said Ron defensively.

"An ordinary common or garden rat like this can't be expected to live longer than three years or so," said the witch. "Now, if you were looking for something a bit more hard-wearing, you might like one of these—"

She indicated the black rats, who promptly started skipping again. Ron muttered, "Show-offs."

"Well, if you don't want a replacement, you can try this rat tonic," said the witch, reaching under the counter and bringing out a small red bottle.

"Okay," said Ron. "How much—OUCH!"

Ron buckled as something huge and orange came soaring from the top of the highest cage, landed on his head, and then propelled itself, spitting madly, at Scabbers.

"NO, CROOKSHANKS, NO!" cried the witch, but Scabbers shot from between her hands like a bar of soap, landed splay-legged on the floor, and then scampered for the door.

"Scabbers!" Ron shouted, racing out of the shop after him; Harry followed.

Dawn and Willow stood looking at a cinnamon owl. They had been using Hedgwig whenever they wrote to Buffy and Faith or Xander and Giles. While Harry had told them Hedgwig didn't mind taking letters to the ISC for them. They still wanted to get an owl so Hedgwig wouldn't be so busy ferrying mail back and forth for them.

"You two have a good eye," the witch said. "That owl changes colors depending on its mood. Cinnamon is its standard color."

"We'll take it," Dawn and Willow said and they paid for the owl. They noticed that Hermione was not carrying an owl cage, but a cat carrier, when they left the shop. Ron and Harry returned with Scabbers in hand at that moment.

"Is that the cat that scared Ron's rat?" Dawn asked as she looked into the cage.

"Yes," Hermione said, glowing. "He's gorgeous, isn't he?"

"Hermione, that thing nearly scalped me!" said Ron.

"He didn't mean to, did you, Crookshanks?" said Hermione.

"And what about Scabbers?" said Ron, pointing at the lump in his chest pocket. "He needs rest and relaxation! How's he going to get it with that thing around?"

"That reminds me, you forgot your rat tonic," said Hermione, slapping the small red bottle into Ron's hand. "And stop worrying, Crookshanks will be sleeping in my dormitory and Scabbers in yours, what's the problem? Poor Crookshanks, that witch said he'd been in there for ages; no one wanted him."

"I wonder why," said Ron sarcastically as they set off toward the Leaky Cauldron.

"Ron," Dawn said.

They found Mr. Weasley sitting in the bar, reading the Daily Prophet.

"Harry!" he said, smiling as he looked up. "How are you?"

"Fine, thanks," said Harry as he, Ron, Dawn, Willow and Hermione joined Mr. Weasley with all their shopping.

"Who do we have here?" Mr. Weasley said.

"You heard me talk about them, dad," Ron said. "They're Harry's aunts, the ones who taught Defense last year."

"And this year," Dawn said.

Mr. Weasley put down his paper, and Harry saw the now familiar picture of Sirius Black staring up at him.

"They still haven't caught him, then?" he asked.

"No," said Mr. Weasley, looking extremely grave. "They've pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far."

"Would we get a reward if we caught him?" asked Ron. "It'd be good to get some more money—"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," said Mr. Weasley, who on closer inspection looked very strained. "Black's not going to be caught by a thirteen-year old wizard. It's the Azkaban guards who'll get him back, you mark my words."

At that moment Mrs. Weasley entered the bar, laden with shopping bags and followed by the twins, Fred and George; the newly elected Head Boy, Percy; and the Weasleys' youngest child and only girl, Ginny.

Percy, however, held out his hand solemnly as though he and Harry had never met and said, "Harry. How nice to see you."

"Hello, Percy," said Harry, trying not to laugh.

"I hope you're well?" said Percy pompously, shaking hands. It was rather like being introduced to the mayor.

"Very well, thanks—"

Percy looked to Dawn and Willow. "Professors, how was your summer?"

"Fine, thank you for asking," Willow said.

"Harry!" said Fred, elbowing Percy out of the way and bowing deeply. "Simply splendid to see you, old boy—"

"Marvelous," said George, pushing Fred aside and seizing Harry's hand in turn. "Absolutely spiffing."

Percy scowled.

"That's enough, now," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Mum!" said Fred as though he'd only just spotted her and seizing her hand too. "How really corking to see you—"

"I said, that's enough," said Mrs. Weasley, depositing her shopping in an empty chair. "Hello, Harry, dear. I suppose you've heard our exciting news?" She pointed to the brand-new silver badge on Percy's chest. "Second Head Boy in the family!" she said, swelling with pride.

"And last," Fred muttered under his breath.

"I don't doubt that," said Mrs. Weasley, frowning suddenly. "I notice they haven't made you two prefects."

"What do we want to be prefects for?" said George, looking revolted at the very idea. "It'd take all the fun out of life."

Ginny giggled.

"You want to set a better example for your sister!" snapped Mrs. Weasley.

"Ginny's got other brothers to set her an example, Mother," said Percy loftily. "I'm going up to change for dinner…"

He disappeared and George heaved a sigh.

"We tried to shut him in a pyramid," he told Harry. "But Mum spotted us."

Dawn, Willow and Harry agreed to have dinner with the Weasleys that evening. It was a very enjoyable affair. Tom the innkeeper put three tables together in the parlor, and the seven Weasleys, Dawn, Willow, Harry, and Hermione ate their way through five delicious courses.

"How're we getting to King's Cross tomorrow, Dad?" asked Fred as they dug into a sumptuous chocolate pudding.

"The Ministry's providing a couple of cars," said Mr. Weasley.

Everyone looked up at him.

"Why?" said Percy curiously.

"It's because of you, Perce," said George seriously. "And there'll be little flags on the hoods, with HB on them—"

"—for Humongous Bighead," said Fred.

Everyone except Percy and Mrs. Weasley snorted into their pudding.

"Why are the Ministry providing cars, Father?" Percy asked again, in a dignified voice.

"Well, as we haven't got one anymore," said Mr. Weasley, "—and as I work there, they're doing me a favor—"

"If you like we can take you ourselves," Dawn said.

"How," Mr. Weasley asked.

"By portal," Willow said as she waved her arm and a portal appeared. She let the portal close when she noticed several witches and wizards at other tables were looking at them and the portal. "Instantaneous travel."

"That would be most beneficial," Mrs. Weasley said before looking at her children. "Do you realize how much luggage you've all got between you? A nice sight you'd be on the Muggle Underground… And the Ministry cars would require loading and unloading here and at the train station." She looked at Willow and Dawn. "Assuming you two don't mind."

"We don't mind," Dawn said.

Mrs. Weasley nodded as she looked to her children. "You are all packed, aren't you?"

"Ron hasn't put all his new things in his trunk yet," said Percy, in a long-suffering voice. "He's dumped them on my bed."

"You'd better go and pack properly, Ron, because we won't have much time in the morning," Mrs. Weasley called down the table. Ron scowled at Percy.

After dinner everyone felt very full and sleepy. Dawn, Willow and Harry drove back to the ISC and packed before they headed to bed. The next morning they portaled back to the Leaky Cauldron with their things. As Willow portaled the Weasley children to King's Cross. Dawn walked down the corridor to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's room when her Slayer hearing picking up the sound of Harry's name being spoken.

"…makes no sense not to tell him," Mr. Weasley was saying heatedly. "Harry's got a right to know. I've tried to tell Fudge, but he insists on treating Harry like a child. He's thirteen years old and—"

"Arthur, the truth would terrify him!" said Mrs. Weasley shrilly. "Do you really want to send Harry back to school with that hanging over him? For heaven's sake, he's happy not knowing! Especially since he no longer lives with those muggles."

"I don't want to make him miserable, I want to put him on his guard!" retorted Mr. Weasley. "You know what Harry and Ron are like, wandering off by themselves! But Harry mustn't do that this year! When I think could happen to him. They say Sirius Black's mad, and maybe he is, but he was clever enough to escape from Azkaban, and that's supposed to be impossible. It's been a month, and no one's seen hide nor hair of him, and I don't care what Fudge keeps telling the Daily Prophet, we're no nearer catching Black than inventing self-spelling wands. The only thing we know for sure is what Black's after—"

"But Harry will be perfectly safe at Hogwarts."

"We thought Azkaban was perfectly safe. If Black can break out of Azkaban, he can break into Hogwarts."

"But no one's really sure that Black's after Harry—"

There was a thud on wood.

"Molly, how many times do I have to tell you? They didn't report it in the press because Fudge wanted it kept quiet, but Fudge went out to Azkaban the night Black escaped. The guards told Fudge that Black's been talking in his sleep for a while now. Always the same words: 'He's at Hogwarts … he's at Hogwarts.' Black is deranged, Molly, and he wants Harry dead. If you ask me, he thinks murdering Harry will bring You-Know-Who back to power. Black lost everything the night Harry stopped You-Know-Who, and he's had twelve years alone in Azkaban to brood on that…"

"Well, Arthur, you must do what you think is right. But you're forgetting Albus Dumbledore. I don't think anything could hurt Harry at Hogwarts while Dumbledore's headmaster. I suppose he knows about all this?"

"Of course he knows. We had to ask him if he minds the Azkaban guards stationing themselves around the entrances to the school grounds. He wasn't happy about it, but he agreed."

"Not happy? Why shouldn't he be happy, if they're there to catch Black?"

"Dumbledore isn't fond of the Azkaban guards," said Mr. Weasley heavily. "Nor am I, if it comes to that … but when you're dealing with a wizard like Black, you sometimes have to join forces with those you'd rather avoid."

"If they save Harry—"

"—then I will never say another word against them," said Mr. Weasley wearily. "It's late, Molly, we need to get ready to go. Harry's aunts will be here soon."

Dawn opened the door. "They are already here and Willow is helping to get your children to the station now. Why is it you two are so afraid for Harry? What has Sirius Black to do with him?"

"He was Lily and James secret keeper," Mr. Weasley said. "He told You-Know-Who where they were."

"And you believe he might kill Harry for Voldemort?" Dawn asked as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley flinched. "Sorry."

"We do," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Willow and I are two of the most powerful Wiccan witches in the world. Nothing will happen to Harry, I promise," Dawn said.


	15. Chapter 14: Dementor

**Author's Note: **A reviewer mentioned that it was a shame the U.S. didn't have a Wizarding community. While it was not mentioned in the books. Pottermore (J. K. Rollings hidden items game site) does mention a U.S. version of the Ministry of Magic which means there is a U.S. does have a wizarding community.

Which means I need to make a mention on why they didn't invite Willow or Dawn to a wizardry and witchcraft school. Using the backstory for Tara as established in BTVS canon its likely Tara's father would have turned down any invitation for Tara to attend such a school. I also need to probably mention why the American version of the Auror's weren't sent out when Willow tried to end the world. Or why the American version of the Ministry of Magic did not try and rehabilitate or even send Willow to a prison like Azkaban.

* * *

**Chapter 14: Dementor**

The only available compartment had only one occupant, a man sitting fast asleep next to the window. The Hogwarts Express was usually reserved for students. Dawn and Willow had gotten special permission from Dumbledore to ride the train with Harry and normally would have been the only adults aside from a witch who pushed around a food cart.

The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard's robes that had been darned in several places. He looked ill and exhausted.

"Who d'you reckon he is?" Ron hissed as they sat down and slid the door shut, taking the seats farthest away from the window.

"Professor R. J. Lupin," whispered Hermione at once.

"How d'you know that?"

"It's on his case," she replied, pointing at the luggage rack over the man's head, where there was a small, battered case held together with a large quantity of neatly knotted string. The name Professor R. J. Lupin was stamped across one corner in peeling letters.

"Wonder what he teaches?" said Ron, frowning at Professor Lupin's pallid profile.

"Probably," Dawn said. "History of Magic. Dumbledore told the staff via owl post that Professor Binns had not returned. It is now believed he has crossed over. So there is a vacancy in History of Magic."

"Well, I hope he's up to it," said Ron doubtfully. "He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn't he? Anyway…"

Dawn decided now that they were in semi-privacy to tell Harry and Willow what she had heard Mr. and Mrs. Weasley say.

When she'd finished, Ron looked thunderstruck, and Hermione had her hands over her mouth. She finally lowered them to say, "Sirius Black escaped to come after Harry? Oh, Harry … you'll have to be really, really careful. Don't go looking for trouble, Harry—"

"I don't go looking for trouble," said Harry, nettled. "Trouble usually finds me."

"Harry's not going to go looking for trouble," Dawn said. "Because he will report anything he finds to me and Willow, immediately."

"No one knows how he got out of Azkaban," said Ron uncomfortably. "No one's ever done it before. And he was a top-security prisoner too."

"But they'll catch him, won't they?" said Hermione earnestly. "I mean, they've got all the Muggles looking out for him too…"

"What's that noise?" said Ron suddenly.

A faint, tinny sort of whistle was coming from somewhere. They looked all around the compartment.

"It's coming from your trunk, Harry," said Ron, standing up and reaching into the luggage rack. A moment later he had pulled the Pocket Sneakoscope out from between Harry's robes. It was spinning very fast in the palm of Ron's hand and glowing brilliantly.

"Is that a Sneakoscope?" said Hermione interestedly, standing up for a better look.

"Yeah… mind you, it's a very cheap one," Ron said. "It went haywire just as I was tying it to Errol's leg to send it to Harry."

"Were you doing anything untrustworthy at the time?" said Hermione shrewdly.

"No! Well… I wasn't supposed to be using Errol. You know he's not really up to long journeys… but how else was I supposed to get Harry's present to him?"

"Stick it back in the trunk," Harry advised as the Sneakoscope whistled piercingly, "or it'll wake him up."

He nodded toward Professor Lupin. Ron stuffed the Sneakoscope into a Harry's socks, which deadened the sound, then closed the lid of the trunk on it.

"We could get it checked in Hogsmeade," said Ron, sitting back down. "They sell that sort of thing in Dervish and Banges, magical instruments and stuff. Fred and George told me."

"Do you know much about Hogsmeade?" asked Hermione keenly. "I've read it's the only entirely non-Muggle settlement in Britain—"

"Yeah, I think it is," said Ron in an offhand sort of way, "but that's not why I want to go. I just want to get inside Honeydukes!"

"What's that?" said Dawn. She and Willow had not been able to get to Hogsmeade last year.

"It's this sweetshop," said Ron, a dreamy look coming over his face, "where they've got everything… Pepper Imps—they make you smoke at the mouth—and great fat Chocoballs full of strawberry mousse and clotted cream, and really excellent sugar quills, which you can suck in class and just look like you're thinking what to write next—"

"But Hogsmeade's a very interesting place, isn't it?" Hermione asked eagerly. "In Sites of Historical Sorcery it says the inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack's supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain—"

"—and massive sherbet balls that make you levitate a few inches off the ground while you're sucking them," said Ron, who was plainly not listening to a word Hermione was saying.

Hermione looked around at Harry. "Won't it be nice to get out of school for a bit and explore Hogsmeade?"

"Of course it will," Willow said answering for Harry. "Which reminds me. We forgot to sign your permission form."

Harry pulled out the form, a quill, and some ink and handed them to Willow.

Willow and Dawn signed the permission form and handed it all back to Harry.

Hermione fumbled with the straps of Crookshanks's basket as she spoke.

"Don't let that thing out!" Ron said, but too late; Crookshanks leapt lightly from the basket, stretched, yawned, and sprang onto Ron's knees; the lump in Ron's pocket trembled and he shoved Crookshanks angrily away.

"Get out of here!"

"Ron, don't!" said Hermione angrily.

Ron was about to answer back when Professor Lupin stirred. They watched him apprehensively, but he simply turned his head the other way, mouth slightly open, and slept on.

The Hogwarts Express moved steadily north and the scenery outside the window became wilder and darker while the clouds overhead thickened. People were chasing backward and forward past the door of their compartment. Crookshanks had now settled in Hermione's lap, his squashed face turned toward Ron, his yellow eyes on Ron's top pocket.

At one o'clock, the plump witch with the food cart arrived at the compartment door.

"D'you think we should wake him up?" Ron asked awkwardly, nodding toward Professor Lupin. "He looks like he could do with some food."

Hermione approached Professor Lupin cautiously.

"Er—Professor?" she said. "Excuse me—Professor?"

He didn't move.

"Don't worry, dear," said the witch as she handed Harry a large stack of Cauldron Cakes. "If he's hungry when he wakes, I'll be up front with the driver."

"I suppose he is asleep?" said Ron quietly as the witch slid the compartment door closed. "I mean—he hasn't died, has he?"

"No, no, he's breathing," whispered Hermione, taking the Cauldron Cake Harry passed her.

Midafternoon, just as it had started to rain, blurring the rolling hills outside the window, they heard footsteps in the corridor again, and Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle appeared in the door.

"Well, look who it is," said Malfoy in his usual lazy drawl, pulling open the compartment door. "Potty and the Weasel."

Crabbe and Goyle chuckled trollishly.

"Mr. Malfoy," Dawn said.

"Professor," Malfoy said, his eyes narrowed. He wasn't fool enough to pick a fight right under a teacher's nose, regardless if she was what he considered a mudblood or not.

"Unless you want to start the school year with detention. I suggest you move along," Dawn said.

"C'mon," he muttered resentfully to Crabbe and Goyle, and they disappeared.

"I'm not going to take any crap from Malfoy this year," Ron said angrily. "I mean it. If he makes one more crack about my family, I'm going to get hold of his head and—"

Ron made a violent gesture in midair.

"Ron," Dawn said. "If I hear any more talk …"

"I know, Dawn," Ron said with a sigh. She was after all a teacher and when they got to Hogwarts couldn't play favorites because he was her nephew's friend. Which meant if he did something to Malfoy and she saw she would have to give him detention or take away house points … or something else.

The rain thickened as the train sped yet farther north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering gray, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the wind roared, but still, Professor Lupin slept.

"We must be nearly there," said Ron, leaning forward to look past Professor Lupin at the now completely black window.

The words had hardly left him when the train started to slow down.

"Great," said Ron, getting up and walking carefully past Professor Lupin to try and see outside. "I'm starving. I want to get to the feast…"

"We're not there yet," Dawn said her Slayer eyesight telling her what the others could not see.

"So why're we stopping?"

The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows.

Harry, who was nearest the door, got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments.

The train came to a stop with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.

"What's going on?" said Ron.

"Ouch!" gasped Hermione. "Ron, that was my foot!"

"D'you think we've broken down?"

"Dunno…"

"There's something moving out there," Dawn said. "I think someone might be coming aboard."

The compartment door suddenly opened and someone fell painfully over Harry's legs.

"Sorry—d'you know what's going on?—Ouch—sorry—"

"Hullo, Neville," said Harry, feeling around in the dark and pulling Neville up by his cloak.

"Harry? Is that you? What's happening?"

"No idea—sit down—"

"Neville!" Hermione said.

"Sit here," Dawn said as she moved over into Willow's lap.

"I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," came Hermione's voice. Harry felt her pass him, heard the door slide open again, and then a thud and two loud squeals of pain.

"Who's that?"

"Who's that?"

"Ginny?"

"Hermione?"

"What are you doing?"

"I was looking for Ron—"

"Come in and sit down—"

"Not here!" said Harry hurriedly. "I'm here!"

"Ouch!" said Neville.

"Quiet!" said a hoarse voice suddenly.

Professor Lupin appeared to have woken up at last. They could hear movements in his corner. None of them spoke.

There was a soft, crackling noise, and a shivering light filled the compartment. Professor Lupin appeared to be holding a handful of flames.

"Why didn't I think of that," Willow said. "Fiat lux!"

The compartment was suddenly lit by diffused light.

"Wiccan?" Lupin asked.

"Yes," Dawn and Willow said.

"Stay where you are," he said in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his feet.

But the door slid slowly open before Lupin could reach it.

Standing in the doorway was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood.

The thing beneath the hood drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.

An intense cold swept over them all. Harry's eyes rolled up into his head and he slid to the floor.

"Harry! Harry! Are you all right?" Willow shouted as she and Dawn leaned over Harry.

"None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go," Lupin said. But the thing did not move. "Expecto Patronum!" Some kind of silvery mist erupted from the end of his wand driving the thing off.

Dawn slapped her nephew as the train began moving again. "Harry?"

"W—what?" Harry opened his eyes just as the lights came back on. "Aunt Dawn?"

"Are you okay?" Willow asked, concern etched in her voice.

"Yeah," said Harry as Dawn and Willow helped him back in his seat. "What happened? Where's that—that thing? Who screamed?"

"No one screamed," said Ron.

Harry looked around the bright compartment. Ginny and Neville looked back at him, both very pale.

"But I heard screaming—"

"No one screamed," Dawn said.

A loud snap made them all jump. Professor Lupin was breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces.

"Here," he said to Harry, handing him a particularly large piece. "Eat it. It'll help."

Harry took the chocolate but didn't eat it.

"What was that thing?" he asked Lupin.

"A dementor," said Lupin, who was now giving chocolate to everyone else. "One of the dementors of Azkaban."

"That was one of the guards?" Dawn asked as Lupin nodded. "What is it? My Slayer senses started going off the moment it appeared.

"No one is exactly sure what the dementors are," Lupin said. "Only what they can do." He looked back to Harry as he crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and put it in his pocket. "Eat," he repeated. "It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me…"

"I'll come with you," Dawn said as she followed Lupin and they disappeared into the corridor.

"Are you sure you're okay, Harry?" said Willow, watching Harry anxiously.

"I don't get it… What happened?" said Harry, wiping more sweat off his face.

"Well—that thing—the dementor—stood there and looked around (I mean, I think it did, I couldn't see its face)—and you—you—" Hermione said.

"I thought you were having a fit or something," said Ron, who still looked scared. "You went sort of rigid and fell out of your seat and started twitching—"

"And Professor Lupin stepped over you, and walked toward the dementor, and pulled out his wand," said Hermione, "and he said, 'None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.' But the dementor didn't move, so Lupin muttered something, and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned around and sort of glided away…"

"It was horrible," said Neville, in a higher voice than usual. "Did you feel how cold it got when it came in?"

"I felt weird," said Ron, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably. "Like I'd never be cheerful again…"

Ginny gave a small sob; Hermione went over and put a comforting arm around her.

"But didn't any of you—fall off your seats?" said Harry awkwardly.

"No," said Willow, looking anxiously at Harry.

"Ginny was shaking like mad, though…" Ron said.

Lupin and Dawn came back. Willow moved back beside Dawn and Harry as Lupin looked around. He smiled. "I haven't poisoned that chocolate, you know…"

Harry took a bite and to his great surprise felt warmth spread suddenly to the tips of his fingers and toes.

"We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes," said Professor Lupin. "Are you all right, Harry?"

Harry didn't ask how Professor Lupin knew his name.

"Fine," he muttered, embarrassed.

For the first time since waking up Lupin got a good look at Willow. "Tigerlily?"

"Excuse me?" Willow said.

"Sorry, you just looked like someone I knew when I went to Hogwarts," Lupin said.


	16. Chapter 15: Divination

**Chapter 15: Divination**

They didn't talk much during the remainder of the journey. At long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get outside; owls hooted, cats meowed, and Neville's pet toad croaked loudly from under his hat. It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down in icy sheets.

"Firs' years this way!" called Hagrid. Dawn, Willow, Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned and saw him at the other end of the platform, beckoning the terrified-looking new students forward for their traditional journey across the lake.

"All righ', you three?" Hagrid yelled over the heads of the crowd. They waved at him, but had no chance to speak to him because the mass of people around them was shunting them away along the platform. Dawn opened a portal and ushered Harry, Ron, and Hermione through it into the Great Hall before she and Willow followed closing it behind them.

Dawn and Willow marched off to find Dumbledore. He spotted them and let out a sigh. "Dawn, Willow," he said.

"Why did they board the train?" Dawn asked.

"I do not know," Dumbledore said. "And I am very displeased that they did. Is it true they affected Harry?"

Willow nodded. "Yes," she said. "When he woke he said he had heard someone scream. Yet no one screamed."

"The reason the dementors guard Azkaban is because of what they can do. When in their presence it will seem that all happiness has left the world. They will make you relive your most sad and painful memories. Even if they are memories that you do not know you have."

"So Harry was reliving a memory," Dawn said. "When he fainted."

"Very likely," Dumbledore said. "And whoever he heard scream was in that memory."

"Who is Professor Lupin?" Willow wondered. "He called me Tigerlily."

"He knew your sister in school," Dumbledore said. "Tigerlily was Lily's nickname. He, James, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew were all friends in school. Lily joined their group when she started going out with James."

When Dawn, Dumbledore and Willow returned to the Great Hall the sorting had already finished.

"Welcome!" said Dumbledore as he, Willow and Dawn moved to their seats at the staff table. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast…"

Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business. They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises—or even Invisibility Cloaks. It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors."

Dumbledore paused; he looked very seriously around the hall, and nobody moved or made a sound.

"On a happier note," he continued, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. "First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of History of Magic teacher."

There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause. Only those who had been in the compartment on the train with Professor Lupin clapped.

"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away. "Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

Everyone applauded, well nearly everyone.

As Professor Dumbledore started speaking again, they saw that Hagrid was wiping his eyes on the tablecloth.

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," said Dumbledore. "Let the feast begin!"

The golden plates and goblets before them filled suddenly with food and drink. It was a delicious feast; the hall echoed with talk, laughter, and the clatter of knives and forks.

At long last, when the last morsels of pumpkin tart had melted from the golden platters, Dumbledore gave the word that it was time for them all to go to bed.

"Congratulations, Hagrid!" Hermione squealed as she, Harry and Ron approached the teachers' table and Hagrid, Dawn and Willow.

"All down ter you three," said Hagrid, wiping his shining face on his napkin as he looked up at them. "Can' believe it … great man, Dumbledore … came straight down to me hut after Professor Kettleburn said he'd had enough … It's what I always wanted …"

"I don't think it could have happened to a better person," Willow said. "Go on you three. We'll see you tomorrow."

When Dawn and Willow entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next day, the first thing they saw was Malfoy, who seemed to be entertaining a large group of Slytherins with a very funny story. As they passed, Malfoy did a ridiculous impression of a swooning fit and there was a roar of laughter.

Willow turned and glared at Malfoy. "Mr. Malfoy. Fifty points from Slytherin!"

"For what?" Malfoy said shocked.

"For making fun of your fellow student who was a little under the weather yesterday. Be lucky I am only taking points and not giving you detention," Willow said as Harry passed by them with Ron and Hermione.

Harry whispered as he passed, "Thanks."

Willow smiled and nodded as she and Dawn moved up to the staff table and took a seat.

Just then, Hagrid entered the Great Hall. He stopped and talked to Harry, Ron and Hermione before he joined Dawn and Willow at the staff table.

"Excited?" Dawn asked Hagrid.

"Very," Hagrid said as he grinned broadly at Dawn and Willow.

Eventually the hall started to empty as people headed off toward their first lesson.

"Do you think you can handle our first class yourself, Will," Dawn said. "Harry has Divination first thing. I'm interested in seeing what this teacher is like."

"Sure," Willow said.

Dawn walked over to Ron, Harry and Hermione. "Care for some company."

"You are going to sit in on our class?" Harry asked.

"Yep," Dawn said. "As a seer I want to see if the teacher is up to snuff."

The journey through the castle to North Tower was a long one.

"Dawn—can't—you—portal—us—there?" Ron panted as they climbed their seventh long staircase.

"Next time I could," Dawn said. "But I've never been up here and any memory that holds what this room looks like is still locked away in my mind. So I have no way of picturing the room in question without seeing it first."

Ron sighed and nodded as they emerged on an unfamiliar landing, where there was nothing but a large painting of a bare stretch of grass hanging on the stone wall.

"I think it's this way," said Hermione, peering down the empty passage to the right.

"Can't be," said Ron. "That's south, look, you can see a bit of the lake out of the window…"

Dawn noticed that Harry was watching the painting. She followed his gaze to it and saw a fat, dapple-gray pony had just ambled onto the grass and was grazing nonchalantly. A moment later, a short, squat knight in a suit of armor clanked into the picture after his pony. By the look of the grass stains on his metal knees, he had just fallen off.

"Aha!" he yelled, seeing Dawn, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "What villains are these, that trespass upon my private lands! Come to scorn at my fall, perchance? Draw, you knaves, you dogs!"

Dawn rolled her eyes as the knight tugged his sword out of its scabbard and began brandishing it violently, hopping up and down in rage. But the sword was too long for him; a particularly wild swing made him overbalance, and he landed face down in the grass.

"Are you all right?" said Harry, moving closer to the picture.

"Get back, you scurvy braggart! Back, you rogue!"

The knight seized his sword again and used it to push himself back up, but the blade sank deeply into the grass and, though he pulled with all

his might, he couldn't get it out again. Finally, he had to flop back down onto the grass and push up his visor to mop his sweating face.

"Listen," said Harry, taking advantage of the knight's exhaustion, "we're looking for the North Tower. You don't know the way, do you?"

"A quest!" The knight's rage seemed to vanish instantly. He clanked to his feet and shouted, "Come follow me, dear friends, and we shall find our goal, or else shall perish bravely in the charge!"

He gave the sword another fruitless tug, tried and failed to mount the fat pony, gave up, and cried, "On foot then, good sirs and gentle ladies! On! On!"

And he ran, clanking loudly, into the left side of the frame and out of sight.

They hurried after him along the corridor, following the sound of his armor. Every now and then they spotted him running through a picture ahead.

"Be of stout heart, the worst is yet to come!" yelled the knight, and they saw him reappear in front of an alarmed group of women in crinolines, whose picture hung on the wall of a narrow spiral staircase.

Dawn followed a puffing Harry, Ron, and Hermione up the tightly spiraling steps, getting dizzier and dizzier, until at last they heard the murmur of voices above them and knew they had reached the classroom.

"Farewell!" cried the knight, popping his head into a painting of some sinister-looking monks. "Farewell, my comrades-in-arms! If ever you have need of noble heart and steely sinew, call upon Sir Cadogan!"

"Yeah, we'll call you," muttered Ron as the knight disappeared, "if we ever need someone mental."

They climbed the last few steps and emerged onto a tiny landing, where most of the class was already assembled. The only door was in the ceiling with a brass plaque on it.

"_Sibyll Trelawney, Divination teacher_," Harry read. "How're we supposed to get up there?"

As though in answer to his question, the trapdoor suddenly opened, and a silvery ladder descended right at Harry's feet. Everyone got quiet.

"After you," said Ron, grinning, so Harry climbed the ladder first followed by Dawn.

Dawn emerged into the strangest-looking classroom she had ever seen. In fact, it didn't look like a classroom at all, more like a cross between someone's attic and an old-fashioned tea shop. At least twenty small, circular tables were crammed inside it, all surrounded by chintz armchairs and fat little poufs. The room reminded her of a fortune teller's shop she had once gone into out of curiosity.

Ron appeared at Harry's shoulder as the class assembled around them, all talking in whispers.

"Where is she?" Ron said.

A voice came suddenly out of the shadows, a soft, misty sort of voice.

"Welcome," it said. "How nice to see you in the physical world at last."

Professor Trelawney moved into the firelight.

Dawn shook her head. Even the teacher seemed to take on the fortune teller appearance.

"Sit, my children, sit," she said, and the students all climbed awkwardly into armchairs or sank onto poufs. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat themselves around the same round table.

Trelawney noticed Dawn as if for the first time. "Greetings Professor Rosenberg-Summers. Thank you for accompanying the children."

"Actually I intend to sit in," Dawn said. "I myself am a seer and wanted to see who taught this class."

"Why of course," Trelawney said. "Welcome to Divination." She seated herself in a winged armchair in front of the fire. "My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye."

Dawn rolled her eyes.

"So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can take you only so far in this field …"

At these words, both Harry and Ron glanced, grinning, at Hermione, who looked startled at the news that books wouldn't be much help in this subject.

"Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future," Professor Trelawney went on, her enormous, gleaming eyes moving from face to nervous face. "It is a Gift granted to few. You, boy," she said suddenly to Neville, who almost toppled off his pouf. "Is your grandmother well?"

"I think so," said Neville tremulously.

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you, dear," said Professor Trelawney, the firelight glinting on her long emerald earrings. Neville gulped.

Professor Trelawney continued placidly. "We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year. The first term will be devoted to reading the tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear," she shot suddenly at Parvati Patil, "beware a red-haired man."

Parvati gave a startled look at Ron, who was right behind her, and edged her chair away from him.

"In the second term," Professor Trelawney went on, "we shall progress to the crystal ball—if we have finished with fire omens, that is. Unfortunately, classes will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu. I myself will lose my voice. And around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever."

Harry looked to his aunt who shook her head.

"I wonder, dear," she said to Lavender Brown, who was nearest and shrank back in her chair, "if you could pass me the largest silver teapot?"

Lavender, looking relieved, stood up, took an enormous teapot from the shelf, and put it down on the table in front of Professor Trelawney.

"Thank you, my dear. Incidentally, that thing you are dreading—it will happen on Friday the sixteenth of October."

Lavender trembled.

"Now, I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me, and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink, drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside down on its saucer, wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of Unfogging the Future. I shall move among you, helping and instructing. Oh, and dear"—she caught Neville by the arm as he made to stand up—"after you've broken your first cup, would you be so kind as to select one of the blue patterned ones? I'm rather attached to the pink."

Sure enough, Neville had no sooner reached the shelf of teacups when there was a tinkle of breaking china. Professor Trelawney swept over to him holding a dustpan and brush and said, "One of the blue ones, then, dear, if you wouldn't mind… thank you…"

Dawn looked at what happened with amusement. Was Neville's breaking of a teacup a suggestion planted by a fraud or a real premonition?

When Harry and Ron had had their teacups filled, they went back to their table and tried to drink the scalding tea quickly. They swilled the dregs around as Professor Trelawney had instructed, then drained the cups and swapped over.

"Right," said Ron as they both opened their books at pages five and six. "What can you see in mine?"

"A load of soggy brown stuff," said Harry as Dawn sat between him and Hermione.

"Broaden your minds, my dears, and allow your eyes to see past the mundane!" Professor Trelawney cried.

"Right, you've got a crooked sort of cross…" Harry consulted Unfogging the Future. "That means you're going to have 'trials and suffering'—sorry about that—but there's a thing that could be the sun… hang on… that means _great happiness _… so you're going to suffer but be very happy …"

"You need your Inner Eye tested, if you ask me," said Ron, and they both had to stifle their laughs as Professor Trelawney gazed in their direction.

Dawn let out a sigh. She shook her head at the very thought of using tea leaves to foresee the future. Unless you truly had the gift it wouldn't work. Trelawney had been right about that.

"My turn…" Ron peered into Harry's teacup, his forehead wrinkled with effort. "There's a blob a bit like a bowler hat," he said. "Maybe you're going to work for the Ministry of Magic …"

He turned the teacup the other way up.

"But this way it looks more like an acorn … What's that?" He scanned his copy of Unfogging the Future. "'A windfall, unexpected gold.' Excellent, you can lend me some … and there's a thing here," he turned the cup again, "that looks like an animal … yeah, if that was its head … it looks like a hippo … no, a sheep …"

Professor Trelawney whirled around as Harry let out a snort of laughter.

"Let me see that, my dear," she said reprovingly to Ron, sweeping over and snatching Harry's cup from him. Everyone went quiet to watch.

Professor Trelawney was staring into the teacup, rotating it counterclockwise.

"The falcon … my dear, you have a deadly enemy."

"But everyone knows that," said Hermione in a loud whisper. Professor Trelawney stared at her.

"Well, they do," said Dawn. "Everybody knows about Harry and Voldemort."

Several students and Trelawney flinched at Voldemort's name.

Professor Trelawney chose not to reply. She lowered her huge eyes to Harry's cup again and continued to turn it.

"The club … an attack. Dear, dear, this is not a happy cup …"

"I thought that was a bowler hat," said Ron sheepishly.

"The skull … danger in your path, my dear …"

Everyone was staring, transfixed, at Professor Trelawney, who gave the cup a final turn, gasped, and then screamed.

There was another tinkle of breaking china; Neville had smashed his second cup. Professor Trelawney sank into a vacant armchair, her glittering hand at her heart and her eyes closed.

"My dear boy … my poor, dear boy … no… it is kinder not to say … no … don't ask me …"

"What is it, Professor?" said Dean Thomas at once. Everyone had got to their feet, and slowly they crowded around Harry, Dawn, Hermione and Ron's table, pressing close to Professor Trelawney's chair to get a good look at Harry's cup.

"My dear," Professor Trelawney's huge eyes opened dramatically, "you have the Grim."

"The what?" said Dawn.

"The Grim, my dear, the Grim!" cried Professor Trelawney, who looked shocked that Dawn didn't know what the Grim was. "The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards!" She looked to Harry. "My dear boy, it is an omen—the worst omen—of death!"

Lavender Brown clapped her hands to her mouth. Everyone was looking at Harry, everyone except Dawn and Hermione, who had gotten up and moved around to the back of Professor Trelawney's chair.

"I don't think it looks like a Grim," Hermione said flatly.

"Neither do I," Dawn agreed.

Professor Trelawney surveyed Hermione and Dawn with mounting dislike.

"You'll forgive me for saying so, but I perceive very little aura around either of you. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future."

Dawn laughed out and then gasped as a premonition flooded her mind.

"Aunt Dawn," Harry said as he rushed around the table to Dawn. "What do you see?"

"A black dog," Dawn said. "I also see a man."

Harry gulped. "Sirius Black?" he asked.

"I don't know, I can't see his face," Dawn said.

At the end of the class Dawn, Harry, Ron, and Hermione descended Professor Trelawney's ladder and the winding stair in silence.

At the bottom Dawn headed off in a different direction than the trio. She headed straight for Dumbledore's office. After giving the password she made her way up the spiral stair and into knocked.

"Come in."

Dawn opened the door and stepped into the office and saw Dumbledore sitting behind his desk.

"Ah Dawn, what can I do for you?" Dumbledore asked.

"Why do you have Trelawney teaching?" Dawn asked. "She appears to be nothing more than a fraud. Not a true seer."

"Originally I was not going to hire her. The only reason I even gave her an interview was because her grandmother had the gift and I hoped she had passed it down. The interview led me to believe the gift had passed Sybill by. Then I witnessed something. She had a vision of the future, a premonition," Dumbledore said. "And while in that premonition she recited a prophecy."

"What prophecy?" Dawn asked.

Dumbledore sighed. "I wanted to wait till I felt Harry was ready to hear this. I beg of you to wait to tell him till you feel he is ready."

"I can't promise anything," Dawn said. "But I will consider your request."

"Fair enough," Dumbledore said. "It goes like this. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies."

"You're sure that is a true prophecy?" Dawn asked.

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "And some of it has already come to pass. Born to those who have thrice defied him. Lily and James thrice defied Voldemort. Harry himself was born as the seventh month dies. And Voldemort marked Harry has his equal."

"The scar," Dawn said.

Dumbledore nodded. "The scar he received when Voldemort tried to kill Harry when he was a babe."


	17. Chapter 16: Boggart

**Chapter 16: Boggart**

Dawn and Willow smiled as the students found a place to sit. "Good afternoon," they said.

"Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's lesson will be practical. You will need only your wands," Willow said as Dawn opened a portal. "If you will all follow me." She turned and walked through the portal as the students got out of their seats and followed Willow through the portal.

Dawn was the last to come through into the empty classroom as she closed the portal behind her.

"Now, then," said Willow, beckoning the class toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe. As Dawn joined Willow the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.

"We got this curtesy of Professor Lupin," Dawn said. "He thought it would make a good first lesson. Since we did not discuss it last year, we agreed."

"What we have in this wardrobe is a boggart," Willow said. "Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces. Such as wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks. Now who can tell me what is a boggart?"

Hermione put up her hand. "It's a shape-shifter," she said. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," said Dawn, and Hermione glowed. "So the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when we let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears."

"This means," said Dawn, "that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"

Trying to answer a question with Hermione next to him, bobbing up and down on the balls of her feet with her hand in the air, was very off putting, but Harry had a go.

"Er—because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"

"Precisely," said Willow.

"Hermione, give others a chance to answer," Dawn whispered to the girl.

"It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a boggart," Willow continued. "It becomes confused. Which should it become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? The charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. This is a spell, as we discussed last year, that can be cast without wands. But since you all are new to the spell we will use wands before moving onto not using them. Now saw the word with me. Riddikulus!"

"Riddikulus!" said the class together.

"Good," said Dawn. "Very good. But that was the easy part. The word alone is not enough."

The wardrobe shook again.

"Alright, Neville," Willow said. "We'll start with you." Neville approached the wardrobe. "What would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"

Neville's lips moved, but no noise came out.

"It's okay, Neville," Dawn said. "Take your time. No one here is going to laugh at you. They may laugh with you, but they won't laugh at you."

Neville looked around rather wildly and then said, in barely more than a whisper, "Professor Snape."

Nearly everyone laughed.

"Professor Snape …" Willow said, "hmmm … Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"

"Er—yes," said Neville nervously. "But—I don't want the boggart to turn into her either."

"No," Dawn said. "What we want you to do is this. Picture Professor Snape in your grandmother's clothes."

Neville nodded.

"Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville?" Dawn asked. "Can you see them in your mind's eye?"

"Yes," said Neville uncertainly, plainly wondering what was coming next.

"When the boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape," said Willow. "You will raise your wand and cry _Riddikulus_—and concentrate hard on Professor Snape in your grandmother's clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into her clothes."

The wardrobe wobbled more violently.

"If Neville is successful, the boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn," said Dawn. "I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical…"

"Everyone ready?" said Willow a moment later. "Neville, we're going to back away. Let you have a clear field, all right? Dawn or I'll call the next person forward … Everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot—"

They all retreated, backed against the walls, leaving Neville alone beside the wardrobe. He looked pale and frightened, but he had pushed up the sleeves of his robes and was holding his wand ready.

"On the count of three, Neville," said Professor Dawn. "One—two—three—now!" She motioned toward the wardrobe and it burst open.

Professor Snape stepped out, his eyes flashing at Neville.

Neville backed away, his wand up, mouthing wordlessly. Snape was bearing down upon him, reaching inside his robes.

"R—r—riddikulus!" squeaked Neville.

There was a noise like a whip crack. Snape stumbled; he was now wearing a long, lace-trimmed dress and a towering hat topped with a motheaten vulture, and he was swinging a huge crimson handbag.

There was a roar of laughter; the boggart paused, confused, and Willow shouted, "Parvati! Forward!"

Parvati walked forward, her face set. Snape rounded on her. There was another crack, and where he had stood was a bloodstained, bandaged mummy; its sightless face was turned to Parvati and it began to walk toward her very slowly, dragging its feet, its stiff arms rising—

"Riddikulus!" cried Parvati.

A bandage unraveled at the mummy's feet; it became entangled, fell face forward, and its head rolled off.

"Seamus!" roared Dawn.

Seamus darted past Parvati.

Crack! Where the mummy had been was a woman with floor-length black hair and a skeletal, green-tinged face—a banshee. She opened her mouth wide and an unearthly sound filled the room, a long, wailing shriek.

"Riddikulus!" shouted Seamus.

The banshee made a rasping noise and clutched her throat; her voice was gone.

Crack! The banshee turned into a rat, which chased its tail in a circle, then—crack!—became a rattlesnake, which slithered and writhed before

—crack!—becoming a single, bloody eyeball.

"It's confused!" shouted Willow. "We're getting there! Dean!"

Dean hurried forward.

Crack! The eyeball became a severed hand, which flipped over and began to creep along the floor like a crab.

"Riddikulus!" yelled Dean.

There was a snap, and the hand was trapped in a mousetrap.

"Excellent! Ron, you next!"

Ron leapt forward.

Crack!

Quite a few people screamed. A giant spider, six feet tall and covered in hair, was advancing on Ron, clicking its pincers menacingly.

"Riddikulus!" bellowed Ron, and the spider's legs vanished; it rolled over and over; Lavender Brown squealed and ran out of its way and it came to a halt at Harry's feet. He raised his wand, ready, but—

"Here!" shouted Dawn suddenly, hurrying forward.

Crack!

The legless spider had vanished replaced by a blonde woman they all recognized as the replacement professor from the year before, Dawn's sister. But something was wrong with this version of Buffy. They realized this version of Buffy was a corpse.

"You killed me, Dawn," the Buffy boggart said.

"Riddikulus!" Willow said as she stepped next to Dawn who held tears in her eyes.

Crack!

The Boggart changed into another blonde who none of the students recognized and Willow smiled at the blonde.

"Forward, Neville, and finish it off!" said Willow as she pulled Dawn into an embrace.

Neville stepped forward looking determined.

Crack! Snape was back.

"Riddikulus!" he shouted, and they had a split second's view of Snape in his lacy dress before Neville let out a great "Ha!" of laughter, and the boggart exploded, burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone.

"Excellent!" cried Willow as the class broke into applause. "Excellent, Neville. Well done, everyone… Let me see… five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the boggart—ten for Neville because he did it twice… and five each to Hermione and Harry."

"But I didn't do anything," said Harry.

"You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of the class, Harry," Willow said lightly. "Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson. Homework, kindly read the chapter on boggarts and summarize it for us … to be handed in on Monday. That will be all."

Talking excitedly, the class exited through the portal Willow opened back into the Defense classroom.

"Aunt Dawn, Aunt Willow?" Harry said as the portal closed leaving the three of them alone.

"Why did we not let you defeat the boggart?" Willow asked as Harry nodded. "What are you afraid of?"

"The first thing that popped in my head was Voldemort," Harry said.

"That occurred to us as well," Dawn said as she wiped the tears away. "And one thing we did not want was a Voldemort boggart."

"Then I thought of the dementor," Harry said.

"Another thing that occurred to us as well," Willow said. "And the dementor boggart while not as bad as the Voldemort boggart would still have been bad. We promise to practice the spell with you later, Harry."

"Okay," Harry said. "Can I ask you both something. Why did when the boggart that took on Aunt Buffy's form say that you had killed her, Aunt Dawn."

"Because it's my fear that Buffy will die trying to protect me," Dawn said.

"And the blonde?" Harry asked.

"Was Tara," Willow said. "The first woman I loved."


	18. Chapter 17: Searching

**Chapter 17: Searching**

The next several lessons Dawn and Willow taught were about Red Caps and kappas. And every night Willow and Dawn tutored Harry not only with the collapsible sword Giles had given him but also with the boggart.

On Halloween morning, Dawn and Willow went down to breakfast so they could meet Harry, Ron and Hermione for the trip into Hogsmeade. After breakfast they passed Filch, who stood just inside the front doors and was checking off names against a long list. They headed for Hogsmeade. They had a wonderful day. Dawn and Willow bought the group lunch at the Three Broomsticks. They went to Dervish and Banges, the wizarding equipment shop, Zonko's Joke Shop, and many places besides.

Dawn shook her head as they walked back towards the school. "About two hundred owls, all sitting on shelves, all color-coded depending on how fast you want your letter to get there! How ridiculous can you be?"

"Well it does make sense, baby," Willow said. "It is a post office after all. They would want to make it easy on themselves and their customers who are sending mail."

"Well I like this fudge," Ron said. They had gotten free samples of some new kind of fudge. "Do you think that really was an ogre we saw at the Three Broomsticks?"

"I doubt it," Dawn said. "If it was anything it was like Hagrid, half human half ogre. I doubt they would let a full blooded ogre into the place."

As they reached the entrance hall and crossed into the Great Hall. It had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant water snakes.

The food was delicious; they all were full to bursting with Honeydukes sweets, but somehow managed second helpings of everything.

The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding; Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had a great success with a reenactment of his own botched beheading.

Dawn and Willow accompanied, on their way to their own suite, Harry, Ron, and Hermione toward the Gryffindor Tower, but when they reached the corridor that ended with the portrait of the Fat Lady, they found it jammed with students.

"Why isn't anyone going in?" said Ron curiously.

And that was when Dawn gasped out as Willow, Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at her.

"The Fat Lady is gone. Her portrait torn up.

"Let me through, please," came Percy's voice, and he came bustling importantly through the crowd. "What's the holdup here? You can't all have forgotten the password—excuse me, I'm Head Boy—"

"Mr. Weasley," Willow said.

"Professor," Percy replied.

Willow looked at Dawn who nodded and then she opened a portal as Percy and Dawn pushed their way to the front of the group.

A moment later, Willow and Dumbledore stepped out of portal to stand next to Percy and Dawn.

Dawn had been right the Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely.

Dumbledore took one quick look at the ruined painting and turned, his eyes somber.

"We need to find her," said Dumbledore. "Professor Rosenberg, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."

"You'll be lucky!" said a cackling voice.

It was Peeves the Poltergeist, bobbing over the crowd and looking delighted.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" said Dumbledore calmly, and Peeves's grin faded a little. He didn't dare taunt Dumbledore. Instead he adopted an oily voice that was no better than his cackle.

"Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he said happily. "Poor thing," he added unconvincingly.

"Did she say who did it?" said Dumbledore quietly.

"Oh yes, Professorhead," said Peeves, with the air of one cradling a large bombshell in his arms. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see." Peeves flipped over and grinned at Dumbledore from between his own legs. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

Dumbledore then sent all the Gryffindors back to the Great Hall, where they were joined ten minutes later by the students from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin, who all looked extremely confused.

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Dumbledore told them as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick closed all doors into the hall. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Professors Rosenberg, Rosenberg-Summers and the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately," he added to Dawn, Willow and Percy. "Send word with one of the ghosts. Dawn, Willow, whatever you two do, do not open a portal. If he is in the castle he could get into this room that way."

Professor Dumbledore paused, about to leave the hall, and said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing…"

One casual wave of his wand and the long tables flew to the edges of the hall and stood themselves against the walls; another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.

"Sleep well," said Professor Dumbledore, closing the door behind him.

The hall immediately began to buzz excitedly; the Gryffindors were telling the rest of the school what had just happened.

"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" shouted Percy. "Come on, now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"

As Willow and Dawn patrolled the Great Hall they heard snatches of conversation. They stopped for a moment when they heard Ron, Harry and Hermione talking.

"Do you think Black's still in the castle?" Hermione whispered anxiously.

"Dumbledore obviously thinks he might be," said Ron.

"It's very lucky he picked tonight, you know," said Hermione as they climbed fully dressed into their sleeping bags and propped themselves on their elbows to talk. "The one night we weren't in the tower…"

"I reckon he's lost track of time, being on the run," said Ron. "Didn't realize it was Halloween. Otherwise he'd have come bursting in here."

Hermione shuddered.

"It will be alright," Dawn whispered to the trio. "The memory is fleeting. But I know this much, everything turns out alright in the end."

All around them, people were asking one another the same question: "How did he get in?"

"Maybe he knows how to Apparate," said a Ravenclaw a few feet away. "Just appear out of thin air, you know."

"Disguised himself, probably," said a Hufflepuff fifth year.

"He could've flown in," suggested Dean Thomas.

"Honestly, am I the only person who's ever bothered to read Hogwarts, A History?" said Hermione crossly to Harry and Ron.

"Probably," said Ron. "Why?"

It was Willow who answered instead of Hermione. "There are wards surrounding the castle. You cannot apparate into or out of Hogwarts. If you use a portkey, it won't bring you inside the grounds from outside. The only reason Dawn and I can portal is because the magic of the Key is for older and for more powerful than that of the wards. It was after all created to open the doorway between dimensions."

"Also," Hermione added. "I'd like to see the disguise that could fool those dementors. They're guarding every single entrance to the grounds. They'd have seen him fly in too. And Filch knows all the secret passages, they'll have them covered …"

"The lights are going out now!" Percy shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"

Dawn and Willow rolled their eyes.

The candles all went out at once. The only light now came from the silvery ghosts, who were drifting about talking seriously to the prefects, and the enchanted ceiling, which, like the sky outside, was scattered with stars.

Once every hour, a teacher would reappear in the hall to check in with Willow and Dawn that everything was quiet. Around three in the morning, when many students had finally fallen asleep, Dumbledore came in.

Dawn and Willow made their way to his side.

"Any sign of him, Albus?" asked Willow in a whisper.

"No. All well here?"

"As Buffy would say," Dawn said, "Peachy with a side of keen."

Dumbledore laughed. "Quite an interesting way your sister has of talking and quite a wonderful sense of humor. Good. There's no point moving them all now. I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. We'll move them back in tomorrow."

"And the Fat Lady?" Dawn asked.

"How much did you see?" Dumbledore asked. When Willow had gotten him she had mentioned that Dawn had a vision.

"Her portrait torn up, she missing. I also saw the knight that you got to replace her temporarily. We're going to have to also make sure Neville doesn't write down the passwords. He loses it and Sirius Black finds it and gains entrance to the Gryffindor tower."

"Quite right," Dumbledore said. "Right now the Fat Lady is hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She's still very distressed, but once she's calmed down, I'll have Mr. Filch restore her."

Behind them the door of the hall creaked open again, and Snape walked up to them.

"Headmaster? The whole of the third floor has been searched. He's not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there either."

"What about the Astronomy tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The Owlery?" Dumbledore asked.

"All searched…"

"Very well, Severus. I didn't really expect Black to linger."

"Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?" asked Snape.

"Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next."

"You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before—ah—the start of term?" said Snape.

"Conversation?" Willow asked.

"Later, Willow," said Dumbledore. "I do, Severus."

"It seems—almost impossible—that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed—"

Dawn and Willow realized what Dumbledore and Snape were talking about—Remus Lupin.

"They knew each other didn't they?" Willow asked. "They were both Lily's friends!"

"Yes, Willow," Dumbledore said. "That said though I do not believe he or anyone else would have helped Black enter." His tone made it so clear that the subject was closed that Snape didn't reply. "I must go down to the dementors. I said I would inform them when our search was complete. Dawn, Willow if you please."

Dawn nodded and opened a portal as Dumbledore stepped through.


	19. Chapter 18: To Fall

**Chapter 18: To Fall**

The school talked of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days. The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder.

The Fat Lady's ripped canvas had been taken off the wall and replaced with the portrait of Sir Cadogan and his fat gray pony. Nobody was very happy about this. Sir Cadogan spent half his time challenging people to duels, and the rest thinking up ridiculously complicated passwords, none of which after speaking to Dumbledore he used.

Dawn and Willow sighed as they found their fellow teachers watching Harry closely. One day Ron and Hermione came running up to them and told them that McGonagall had summoned Harry into her office.

They immediately opened a portal and stepped through.

"There's no point hiding it from you any longer, Potter," they heard McGonagall say.. "I know this will come as a shock to you, but Sirius Black—"

"He already knows," Dawn said as McGonagall looked up at her, not expecting to see her or Willow. "Willow and I told Harry that Black is after him."

"I see! Well, in that case, Potter, you'll understand why I don't think it's a good idea for you to be practicing Quidditch in the evenings. Out on the field with only your team members, it's very exposed, Potter—"

"Minerva," Willow said. "That really is not your call. That is ours. Dawn and I are his legal guardians after all. But if it will put your mind at ease. We'll attend each and every practice."

"Alright," McGonagall said with a sigh.

The weather worsened steadily as the first Quidditch match drew nearer. Undaunted, the Gryffindor team was training harder than ever under Dawn and Willow's gaze. Then, at their final training session before Saturday's match, Oliver Wood gave his team some unwelcome news.

"We're not playing Slytherin!" he told them, looking very angry. "Flint's just been to see me. We're playing Hufflepuff instead."

"Why?" chorused the rest of the team.

"Flint's excuse is that their Seeker's arm's still injured," said Wood, grinding his teeth furiously. "But it's obvious why they're doing it. Don't want to play in this weather. Think it'll damage their chances…"

There had been strong winds and heavy rain all day, and as Wood spoke, they heard a distant rumble of thunder.

"There's nothing wrong with Malfoy's arm!" said Harry furiously. "He's faking it!"

"I know that, but we can't prove it," said Wood bitterly. "And we've been practicing all those moves assuming we're playing Slytherin, and instead it's Hufflepuff, and their style's quite different. They've got a new Captain and Seeker, Cedric Diggory—"

Angelina, Alicia, and Katie suddenly giggled.

"What?" said Wood, frowning at this lighthearted behavior.

"He's that tall, good-looking one, isn't he?" said Angelina.

"Strong and silent," said Katie, and they started to giggle again.

"He's only silent because he's too thick to string two words together," said Fred impatiently. "I don't know why you're worried, Oliver, Hufflepuff is a pushover. Last time we played them, Harry caught the Snitch in about five minutes, remember?"

"We were playing in completely different conditions!" Wood shouted, his eyes bulging slightly. "Diggory's put a very strong side together! He's an excellent Seeker! I was afraid you'd take it like this! We mustn't relax! We must keep our focus! Slytherin is trying to wrong-foot us! We must win!"

"Everyone calm down," Willow said with a shake of her head. "You guys will win."

The day before the match, the winds reached howling point and the rain fell harder than ever. It was so dark inside the corridors and classrooms that extra torches and lanterns were lit.

The third time this happened, Wood talked for so long that Harry suddenly realized he was ten minutes late for Defense Against the Dark Arts, and set off at a run with Wood shouting after him, "Diggory's got a very fast swerve, Harry, so you might want to try looping him—"

Harry skidded to a halt outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, pulled the door open, and dashed inside.

"Sorry I'm late, Aunt Dawn, Aunt Willow."

"It's alright, Harry," Dawn said. "I know we said we were starting hinkypunks this week. But we were unable to get some for our lesson today. So we decided to do a refresher on werewolves. You all remember our friend Oz from last year. He has graciously agreed to pay us a return visit."

Oz stood from the chair behind the desk and walked around it. "Hi."

"Which of you can tell us how you distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" said Willow.

Everyone sat in motionless silence; everyone except Hermione, whose hand, as it so often did, had shot straight into the air.

"Hermione," Dawn said.

"Werewolves tend to be slightly larger than normal wolves."

"That's correct," Willow said. "Is there a way to control the wolf?"

"Wolfsbane," Hermione said.

"Partially correct," Dawn said. "Wolfsbane does help to leave a werewolf with control. But it is not the only way. Oz."

"When Willow and I were in our first years of college," Oz said.

"A muggle place of education post school," Dawn explained.

"I went to Tibet where I learned a magical ability that allows me not only to stay in control as the wolf. But also not to be affected by the full moon," Oz continued.

"What Oz is saying is that during the full moon he can choose not to change," Willow said. "I myself witnessed it."

"Anger can trigger the transformation," Dawn said. "Regardless if Oz is in control. So I'd suggest you not make Oz angry."

"Not that is possible, I'm generally a happy person," Oz said.

The next morning Dawn and Willow met Harry on his way to breakfast.

"Excited?" Dawn asked.

"Probably nervous," Willow said.

"A little of both," Harry said as they walked into the Great Hall.

When everyone went out to the Quidditch field to watch the match they found it raining.

Dawn and Willow sat in the teacher's box next to Dumbledore. They watched as the Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs approached each other. The Captains walked up to each other and shook hands. If it hadn't been for Dawn's Slayer hearing she would never have heard Madam Hooch say, "Mount your brooms." The wind and rain drowned out most everything else.

Madam Hooch put her whistle to her lips and gave it a blast that sounded shrill and distant—they were off.

Harry rose fast, but his Nimbus was swerving slightly with the wind. He held it as steady as he could and turned, squinting into the rain. Harry flew backward and forward across the field. Twice Harry came very close to being unseated by a Bludger.

"This is ridiculous," Willow said. "Back in the U.S. we postpone sporting events due to the weather. Why wasn't this postponed?"

"In a game such as this," Dumbledore said. "The wind and rain add in a challenging aspect. Even in the professional matches, they are not called off due to weather."

"How are they even able to see each other?" Willow asked. "I can barely see Madam Hooch who is ten feet in front of us. It is a wonder no one has collided with one another."

"Harry has come close twice," Dawn said as Willow looked at her. "Slayer, remember? While I am still having trouble I can see slightly better than you, Will."

"Right," Willow said as it was announced that Gryffindor had scored their fifth goal..

With the first flash of lightning came the sound of Madam Hooch's whistle and the teams flew to the ground. They huddled at the edge of the field under a large umbrella.

They saw Hermione leave her box and head down to the Gryffindors. After Hermione had done something the match was back on.

There was another clap of thunder, followed immediately by forked lightning. This was getting more and more dangerous.

Another flash of lightning illuminated the stands, and Dawn saw the silhouette of an enormous shaggy black dog, clearly imprinted against the sky, motionless in the topmost, empty row of seats. Dawn's attention was brought back to the match as Harry threw himself flat to the broom-handle and zoomed toward the Snitch.

But something odd was happening. An eerie silence was falling across the stadium. Dawn and Willow looked at each other and then at the hundred dementors that swarmed the field.

And then Harry fell from his boom.

Dawn remembered the spell that Lupin had performed on the train. She hoped it would work without a wand. "Expecto Patronum!" She glowed silver for a moment and then the silver pulled away from her form and coalesced into a tiger. It flew out from her body chasing the dementors away.

Willow opened a portal beneath Harry and he fell into it.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Willow had sent Harry straight to the hospital wing. Where she, Dawn, Ron, Hermione and the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team gathered around his bed after the match had been cancelled.

"Harry!" said Fred when he noticed Harry's eyes open. "How're you feeling?"

"What happened?" Harry said, sitting up so suddenly they all gasped.

"You fell off," said Fred. "If it hadn't been for Dawn you would have feel—what—fifty feet?"

Hermione made a small, squeaky noise. Her eyes were extremely bloodshot.

"But the match," said Harry. "What happened? Are we doing a replay?"

No one said anything. The horrible truth sank into Harry like a stone.

"We didn't—lose?"

"Diggory got the Snitch," said Willow. "Just after you fell. He didn't realize what had happened. When he looked back and saw you falling into my portal, he tried to call it off."

"He wanted a rematch," George added. "But they won fair and square … even Wood admits it."

"Where is Wood?" said Harry, suddenly realizing he wasn't there.

"Still in the showers," said Fred. "We think he's trying to drown himself."

Harry put his face to his knees, his hands gripping his hair.

"It'll be alright, Harry," Dawn said.

"She's right, Harry. It's not over yet," said Fred. "We lost by a hundred points, right? So if Hufflepuff loses to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin…"

"Hufflepuff'll have to lose by at least two hundred points," said George.

"But if they beat Ravenclaw…"

"No way, Ravenclaw is too good. But if Slytherin loses against Hufflepuff…"

"It all depends on the points—a margin of a hundred either way—"

Harry lay there, not saying a word.

After ten minutes or so, Madam Pomfrey came over to tell the team, Ron and Hermione to leave Harry in peace.

"We'll come and see you later," Fred told him. "Don't beat yourself up, Harry, you're still the best Seeker we've ever had."

The team, Ron and Hermione trooped out, trailing mud behind them. Madam Pomfrey shut the door behind them, looking disapproving. Dawn and WIllow moved nearer to Harry's bed.

"Dumbledore's angry," Willow said in a quaking voice. "And you know what I don't blame him."

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"I used a spell the spell that Professor Lupin used on the train and drove the dementors off," Dawn said. "And Willow opened a portal beneath you and deposited you here."

"Did someone get my Nimbus?"

Dawn and Willow looked quickly at each other.

"Er—"

"What?" said Harry, looking from one to the other.

"Well… when you fell off, it got blown away," said Dawn hesitantly.

"And?"

"And it hit—it hit—oh, Harry—it hit the Whomping Willow," Willow added.

"And?" he said, dreading the answer.

"Well, you know the Whomping Willow," said Dawn. "It—it doesn't like being hit."

"Professor Flitwick brought it back just before you came around," said Willow in a very small voice.

Slowly, she reached down for a bag at her feet, turned it upside down, and tipped a dozen bits of splintered wood and twig onto the bed, the only remains of Harry's faithful, finally beaten broomstick.


	20. Chapter 19: Hogsmeade

**Chapter 19: Hogsmeade**

Madam Pomfrey insisted on keeping Harry in the hospital wing for the rest of the weekend.

"What did you do with my broom?" Harry asked Dawn and Willow when they came to visit him.

"We sent it to Xander," Willow said. She and Dawn had sent the pieces explicit with instructions to rebuild it as best as Xander could and then mount it so that it could be hung in Harry's room at the ISC.

"We know it's beyond repair," Dawn said. "But maybe Xander can at least fit the pieces back together and mount it so that it can be hung in your room back home."

Harry smiled at his aunts. He always enjoyed when they did things for him like this. Then his smile faded. "Aunt Dawn do you …"

"From your divination lesson," Dawn said. "I saw it too. I checked after the match. I couldn't find it anywhere on the grounds."

Harry was finally released Monday morning in time for his classes.

That afternoon Lupin walked into Dawn and Willow's classroom just as Harry and the other Gryffindor's were.

"I got a hinkypunk," he said.

"Thanks," Willow and Dawn said as Lupin set the glass box on their desk and turned and walked out of the room.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Willow and Dawn stood on either of the glass box, that Lupin had brought, in front of Harry's class.

"Thanks to Professor Lupin once again," Willow said, "we have a hinkypunk. So we will continue with the lesson we should have had last time. Hinkypuns lure travelers into bogs. You notice the lantern dangling from his hand? Hops ahead—people follow the light—then—"

The hinkypunk made a horrible squelching noise against the glass.

When the bell rang, everyone gathered up their things and headed for the door.

Willow left and headed for Lupin's classroom. She knocked on the door and he looked up from his desk.

"Professor Rosenberg-Summers," he said.

"Willow, please," Willow said. "I just wanted to say thanks again. Twice now you helped us get the creatures we needed for lessons."

"You're welcome," Lupin said and then he shook his head. "You know I still can't get over the fact you remind me of a friend of mine."

"Who was she?" Willow said innocently. She of course knew who he was referring to. But she wanted him to mention it.

"Uhm, Harry's mother," Lupin said. "She died when he was a year old."

Willow smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I know Lils," she said.

"You knew Lily?" Lupin asked confused. He wondered how this American knew his friend who had died years before.

"I'm her sister," Willow said.

Lupin's eyes widened in realization at who Willow was. "You're the one that was adopted by an American couple."

"That's right," Willow said.

"That explains why you look so much like her," Lupin said. "She talked about you, mostly to James though. But occasionally to the rest of us as well. She missed you."

"And I missed her," Willow said. "I didn't even know she had died till last year when Albus came and offered me and Dawn to teach the Defense class."

"I can understand why he would ask Dawn," Lupin said. "She herself mentioned that she was a Slayer. But why you?"

"First, as you know I'm a Wiccan witch," Willow said. "Second, because I lived in Sunnydale, California on top of a Hellmouth till I turned twenty two."

"Of course," Lupin said. "And a Hellmouth would have hidden your from any scrying magic. That explains why Dumbledore placed Harry with his muggle aunt and uncle instead of you."

"That's right," Willow said. "In fact the Hellmouth hid me so well that even the Magical Congress of the United States of America, U.S.'s version of the Ministry of Magic didn't know I or Dawn were witches. We received no formal training. Hence why we are Wiccan instead of wand."

"I've heard that the laws on Wiccan magic are a lot more relaxed than they are here though," Lupin said.

Willow shrugged. "Pretty much. When we left Sunnydale, the U.S., version of the Ministry finally learned about Dawn and I. We were brought before their version of the Wizengamont to explain why we had not trained at a school. When we told them we had lived on the Hellmouth, they released us without another word. It surprises me they didn't say anything when I tried to end the world. Even you guys heard about that over here. I've even had people shy away from me in Diagon Alley. So I know at least some wizards and witches know my name and what I look like."

"They may, I don't know," Lupin said. "I rarely read the Daily Prophet myself."

"I've been meaning to ask," Willow said. "I've noticed you have been keeping an eye on Harry."

Lupin sighed. "I'm not Harry's godfather. But I promised Lily and James that I would look out for him. For the most part I never really had much to worry about. Yes he was not in the best of homes but he was relatively safe there. He was also relatively safe here as well. It wasn't till Harry faced Voldemort not once, but twice, why I decided to approach Dumbledore for a way to help protect Harry. Especially after Sirius escaped from Azkaban."

"Thank you for looking out for him. But that is mine and Dawn's jobs. We are his aunts after all."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Aunt Dawn," Harry said from the door to Dawn and Willow's office.

Dawn smiled at her nephew and motioned for him to enter. "How are you doing, Harry?"

Harry let out a sigh. "Not well, Aunt Dawn. I was wondering … Why? Why do the dementors affect me like that? Am I just—?"

Dawn sighed too and motioned for Harry to sit down next to her. "From what I've read on them. They are among some of the most evil of the demonic races that walk the earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them. From what I've read even non-magical folk like Xander and Anya can feel their presence, though they can't see them. Get too close and they will affect you in ways that … Let me put it this way, they feed on our happiest of memories, on the feelings that bring us the most joy. Given long enough they will devour your soul. You'll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. And the worst that happened to you, Harry, is enough to make anyone fall off their broom. You have nothing to feel ashamed of."

"When they get near me—" Harry stared at his aunt, his throat tight. "I can hear Voldemort murdering my mum."

"You can hear him killing Lily?" Dawn asked.

Harry nodded.

"This is going to stay between us," she said. "We're not going to mention that when they are around that you can remember your mom being killed. It's not a happy memory for you, nor would it be for Willow, either."

Harry nodded in agreement. For his Aunt Willow, knowing how his mom had died was bad enough. Knowing that he remembered it would be worse. "Of course, Aunt Dawn. Aunt Dawn, do you know why they came to the match?"

"They're getting hungry," said Dawn. "As you know Albus won't let them into the school, so their supply of human prey has dried up … I don't think they could resist the large crowd around the Quidditch field. All that excitement… emotions running high… it was their idea of a feast."

"Azkaban must be terrible," Harry muttered.

"Probably," Dawn agreed with a sigh. "I can see why they are the guards though; they're perfect for the job. And why the ISC, and the Watcher's Council, before it has never heard of this kind of demon before. Because the wizarding world keeps them in check. And there is little hope of their wards escaping."

"But Sirius Black escaped from them," Harry said slowly. "He got away…"

"You're right," Dawn agreed. "He must have found a way to fight off their influence."

"Aunt Dawn," Harry said, "you said you made the dementor back off at the match."

"I used a spell I had witness Professor Lupin using on the train," Dawn said. "Would you like me to teach you the spell?" Harry nodded. "Then we'll start your lessons up again."

"You're going to teach me Wiccan again?" Harry asked. "I thought …"

"It's illegal yes," Dawn said. "But a couple things have changed since the summer. First of all, Willow and I could care less about what the Ministry wants. Especially after Minister Fudge tried to get us to restrict your movements during the summer. Second of all, is the fact that Willow holds your seats on the Wizaengament, remember?"

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Dawn and Willow attended every practice session they were able to. They could tell that Harry seemed happier now that Dawn and Willow were teaching him Wiccan magic again.

Two weeks before the end of the term, the sky lightened suddenly to a dazzling, opaline white and the muddy grounds were revealed one morning covered in glittering frost. Inside the castle, there was a buzz of Christmas in the air. Both Ron and Hermione had decided to remain at Hogwarts, and though Ron said it was because he couldn't stand two weeks with Percy, and Hermione insisted she needed to use the library, Dawn and Willow were sure that they were doing it to spend time with them and Harry since they were not going home for Christmas this year.

To everyone's joy there was to be another Hogsmeade trip on the very last weekend of the term.

"We can do all our Christmas shopping there!" said Hermione as she, Harry and Ron entered Dawn and Willow's office. "Mum and Dad would really love those Toothflossing Stringmints from Honeydukes!"

"Are you three ready for the trip?" Willow asked as the trio all nodded.

On the Saturday morning of the Hogsmeade trip Willow and Dawn escorted Harry, Ron and Hermione to Hogsmeade where they told the trio they would meet them for lunch and bid good-bye to the trio. As Hermione, Ron and Harry ran into Honeydukes Fred and George Weasley came up to them. "Professors," Fred said. "Normally we wouldn't even show this to a teacher."

"Because then it would do no good to anyone," George added.

"But with the stuff with Sirius Black and Harry."

"We think you two should have it."

Fred pulled something from inside his cloak with a flourish and handed it to Willow.

Dawn suddenly gasped out as a memory surged into her mind. "The Marauder's Map," she said.

"That's right," George said.

"How did you know?" Fred asked.

"I'm not only a Slayer or a witch, but also a seer," Dawn said. "And I just had a flash of what would happen if Willow and I had not signed Harry's permission slip for Hogsmeade. You would have given it to him."

"Then you know how to use it?" George asked.

"Yes," Dawn said as she pulled out her wand and tapped the map. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

And at once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider's web from the point that Dawn's wand had touched. They joined each other, they crisscrossed, they fanned into every corner of the parchment; then words began to blossom across the top, great, curly green words, that proclaimed:

Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present

The Marauder's Map

It was a map showing every detail of the Hogwarts castle and grounds. Right now they noticed it showed nothing more than the layout.

"It won't work except inside the grounds of course," Fred said.

"Thank you Fred, George," Willow said and she kissed both boys on the cheek. "This will help us to keep Harry safe."

"Mischief managed!" Dawn said as she tapped her wand on the map again and it went blank.

Fred and George then turned and headed off in a different direction.

Dawn and Willow walked around Hogsmeade and smiled. The village looked like a Christmas card; the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there were holly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees.

Finally it was time to meet Harry, Ron and Hermione. They made their way to the Three Broomsticks and entered the tiny inn. It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky. A curvy sort of woman with a pretty face was serving a bunch of rowdy warlocks up at the bar.

"Madam Rosmerta," Dawn said as she and Willow headed for a booth. "Five butterbeers, please."

"Coming right up, Professor Rosenberg-Summers," Rosmerta answered.

No sooner had they sat down at the vacant table between the window and a handsome Christmas tree, than Rosmerta brought them the butterbeers.

There was a sudden breeze as the door of the Three Broomsticks had opened. Dawn and Willow looked expectantly thinking it would be Ron, Harry and Hermione and instead saw McGonagall and Flitwick enter the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with Minister Fudge.

Fudge moved toward the bar, paused, then turned and walked right toward Rosmerta.

"A small gillywater—"

"Mine," said McGonagall voice.

"Four pints of mulled mead—"

"Ta, Rosmerta," said Hagrid.

"A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella—"

"Mmm!" said Professor Flitwick, smacking his lips.

"So you'll be the red currant rum, Minister."

"Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear," said Fudge. "Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? Come and join us…"

"Well, thank you very much, Minister."

Dawn and Willow watched as Romerta went behind the bar got the drinks and returned.

"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?" Rosmerta said as she followed Fudge, Hagrid, McGonagall and Flitwick to a table next to Willow and Dawn's.

"What else, m'dear, but Sirius Black?" Fudge said as he lowered his voice to a whisper. "I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Halloween?"

"I did hear a rumor," admitted Rosmerta.

"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" said McGonagall exasperatedly.

"Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?" whispered Rosmerta.

"I'm sure of it," said Fudge shortly.

"You know that the dementors have searched the whole village twice?" said Rosmerta, a slight edge to her voice. "Scared all my customers away… It's very bad for business, Minister."

"Rosmerta, m'dear, I don't like them any more than you do," said Fudge uncomfortably. "Necessary precaution… unfortunate, but there you are… I've just met some of them. They're in a fury against Dumbledore—he won't let them inside the castle grounds."

"I should think not," said McGonagall sharply. "How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?"

"Hear, hear!" squeaked Flitwick.

"All the same," demurred Fudge, "they are here to protect you all from something much worse… We all know what Black's capable of…"

"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," said Rosmerta thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought… I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."

"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," said Fudge gruffly. "The worst he did isn't widely known."

"The worst?" said Madam Rosmerta, her voice alive with curiosity. "Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"

"I certainly do," said Fudge.

"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"

"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," murmured McGonagall. "Do you remember who his best friend was?"

"Naturally," said Rosmerta, with a small laugh. "Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here—ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"

Dawn looked to Willow and gave Willow's hand a comforting squeeze. While they knew that Black had at one time been James friend, it was still a subject that riled Willow up a little.

"Precisely," said Professor McGonagall. "Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course—exceptionally bright, in fact—but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers—"

"I dunno," chuckled Hagrid. "Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run fer their money."

"You'd have thought Black and Potter were brothers!" chimed in Flitwick. "Inseparable!"

"Of course they were," said Fudge. "Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily. Then they named him godfather to Harry. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him."

Willow's eyes went wide as she slid out of the booth and walked around to stand next to Hagrid. "Is that true," she asked? "Black is still Harry's godfather? I would have thought that would have been annulled the moment he had been sent to prison."

"Yes," Fudge said. "And it gets worse than that my dear. I don't mean to alarm you Professor Rosenberg. But the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm."

"How does that work?" said Rosmerta, breathless with interest. Professor Flitwick cleared his throat.

"An immensely complex spell," he said squeakily, "involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find—unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting room window!"

"So Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?" asked Willow.

"Naturally," said McGonagall. "James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself… and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper himself."

"He suspected Black?" gasped Rosmerta.

"He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements," said McGonagall darkly. "Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who."

"But James insisted on using Black?" Willow wondered.

"He did," said Fudge heavily. "And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed—"

"Black betrayed them?" breathed Willow.

"He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters' death. But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colors as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it—"

"Filthy, stinkin' turncoat!" Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet.

"Shh!" said McGonagall.

"I met him!" growled Hagrid. "I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harry from Lily an' James's house after they was killed! Jus' got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across his forehead, an' his parents dead… an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. I didn' know he'd bin Lily an' James's Secret-Keeper. Thought he'd jus' heard the news o' You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shakin', he was. An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!" Hagrid roared.

"Hagrid, please!" said Professor McGonagall. "Keep your voice down!"

"How was I ter know he wasn' upset abou' Lily an' James? It was You-Know-Who he cared abou'! An' then he says, 'Give Harry ter me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather, I'll look after him—' Ha! But I'd had me orders from Dumbledore, an' I told Black no, Dumbledore said Harry was ter go ter his aunt an' uncle's. Black argued, but in the end he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get Harry there. 'I won't need it anymore,' he says. I shoulda known there was somethin' fishy goin' on then. He loved that motorbike, what was he givin' it ter me for? Why wouldn' he need it anymore? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace. Dumbledore knew he'd bin the Potters' Secret-Keeper. Black knew he was goin' ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a matter o' hours before the Ministry was after him. But what if I'd given Harry to him, eh? I bet he'd've pitched him off the bike halfway out ter sea. His bes' friends' son! But when a wizard goes over ter the Dark Side, there's nothin' and no one that matters to 'em anymore…"

A long silence followed Hagrid's story. Then Rosmerta said with some satisfaction, "But he didn't manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!"

"Alas, if only we had," said Fudge bitterly. "It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew—another of the Potters' friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself."

"Pettigrew… that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?" said Rosmerta.

"Hero-worshipped Black and Potter," said McGonagall. "Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I—how I regret that now…" She sounded as though she had a sudden head cold.

"There, now, Minerva," said Fudge kindly, "Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eyewitnesses—Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later—told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing, 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?' And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens…"

Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, "Stupid boy… foolish boy… he was always hopeless at dueling… should have left it to the Ministry…"

"I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn't've messed around with wands—I'd've ripped him limb—from—limb," Hagrid growled.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid," said Fudge sharply. "Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people. I—I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him… a heap of bloodstained robes and a few—a few fragments—"

Fudge stopped suddenly and took a moment to gather himself before continuing. "Well, there you have it," he said thickly. "Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black's been in Azkaban ever since."

Rosmerta let out a long sigh. "Is it true he's mad, Minister?"

"I wish I could say that he was," said Fudge slowly. "I certainly believe his master's defeat unhinged him for a while. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man—cruel… pointless. Yet I met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark; there's no sense in them… but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored—asked if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the dementors seemed to be having on him—and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside his door day and night."

"What do you think he's broken out to do?" said Rosmerta. "Good gracious, Minister, he isn't trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, is he?"

"I daresay that is his—er—eventual plan," said Fudge evasively. "But we hope to catch Black long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing… but give him back his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quickly he'll rise again…"

"But that's not the only thing right?" Willow asked. "You wouldn't have the dementors here if it were."

"Correct," Fudge said. "As you know Willow, we believe that he may be after your nephew."

"You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the headmaster, we'd better head back up to the castle," said McGonagall.

One by one, Hagrid, Flitwick, Fudge and McGonagall left. Rosmerta made her way back before the bar. And Willow sat back at hers and Dawn's table to await the arrival of Harry, Hermione and Ron. All the while Dawn was holding her lover trying to comfort her the best she could.


	21. Chapter 20: Firebolt

**Author's Note: **If you are looking for the newly uploaded chapter. Its actually not here, it's at the beginning of the story in the form of a very short Prologue. I added it just to establish some of the things that happened between this story and the first story.

Also you will notice this is no longer titled Wrong Memory 3. Since this takes place between Wrong Memory (which is now subtitled Key Memories) and Atlantis Memories, I changed the title of both stories to reflect that. So Atlantis Memories is now Wrong Memory 3. And Wizarding Memories is now Wrong Memory 2.

* * *

**Chapter 20: Firebolt**

"Aunt Willow?" Harry said uncertainly as he looked at his aunt the day after Hogsmeade. All through their luncheon that day Willow had said not a word. She had not even looked at Harry. Even Harry knew that was uncharacteristic of his aunt. He knew that Willow was normally more upbeat than she was at that moment. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Harry," was Willow's only response.

"Aunt Willow, you—you look terrible," Harry said.

"He's right, baby," Dawn said. "You do look terrible. You have since you talked with Fudge yesterday. You want to tell Harry what the minister said or shall I?"

Willow let out a sigh and then nodded. "Sirius Black is your godfather."

"He's my …" Harry replied.

"Harry," Dawn said. "That's not the end of it. Have you heard of the Fidelius Charm?" Harry shook his head. "It's supposed to keep only those who the secret keeper allows into the place where the charm resides. In this case your home in Godric's Hollow. Sirius Black was Lily and James secret keeper."

"That means," Harry said as he sat down heavily. "He told Voldemort where my parents were."

"That's right," Willow said. "Promise me you won't do anything with this information, Harry. It would kill me to find out you went after Black and got yourself killed. I already lost Lily, I don't know if I could lose you too."

Harry looked at Dawn and let out a sigh. "Aunt Dawn, you know what I see and hear every time a dementor gets too near me."

"What is he talking about?" Willow asked as she looked at Dawn.

Dawn let out a sigh. "I asked Harry not to tell you. You already knew how Lily and James died. I didn't think you would want to know that every time a dementor comes around Harry that he hears his mom screaming and pleading with Voldemort."

"What!" Willow practically shouted as she looked back at Harry. "Is that true?"

"Yes," Harry said.

"Harry," Dawn said. "Black will be caught."

"So, but he also escaped from Azkaban," he said. "That means he can't be held, doesn't it? And he's supposed to be after me."

"That is not what we're teaching you Wiccan magic for," Willow said.

"I know," Harry said. "You're teaching me Wiccan magic so I can protect myself. And that wand magic is too restrictive in that regard."

"That's right," Dawn said. "If Black comes after you, you will do what you need to protect yourself. But don't go looking for him, alright."

"I won't, I promise," Harry said as he looked at Willow. He understood her fears. He held them too about both her and Dawn. He knew that should something happen to them he would go back to the Dursleys. But more than that he would have lost another member of his family, and he wasn't sure he could survive that. And he was sure that was how Willow was as well. She had already lost both her lover, Tara, and her sister, Lily. He was sure that like him, she might not survive losing someone else.

"So Harry, what would you like for Christmas," Dawn asked changing the subject.

Harry looked to his aunts and smiled. He had already received his Christmas gift, his birthday gift and any other gift for times that he could think of for the rest of his life. He no longer lived with the Dursleys but with two aunts and their families that had become his family as well. What other gift could you ever want or need than to be surrounded by people you love. But he knew they would not accept that answer. "A new broom."

"We'll see what we can do," Willow said with a smile.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

As time went by the usual Christmas decorations were put up through Hogwarts, despite the fact that hardly any of the students remained to enjoy them. Thick streamers of holly and mistletoe were strung along the corridors, mysterious lights shone from inside every suit of armor, and the Great Hall was filled with its usual twelve Christmas trees, glittering with golden stars.

And during that time Willow and Dawn took a trip to Diagon Alley. They had one stop in mind, Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"What is the best broom you have?" Willow asked the shopkeeper.

"That would be the Firebolt, ma'am. It is the fastest broom on the market, surpassing the Nimbus Two Thousand One. It has an unbreakable Braking Charm, superb balance and precision, and hovers at reasonable mounting height when let go."

Willow glanced at Dawn who nodded and then suddenly gasped out. "Someone else will send him one, anonymously," Dawn said.

Willow turned back to the shopkeeper. "Have you had any orders for this particular broom?"

"Why yes," the shopkeeper said. "I had an order via owl post to be sent to a student at Hogwarts."

"Have you sent it? And do you know how ordered it?"

"I have yet to send it. There were orders not to send it except by Christmas Owl Post. And I don't know who ordered it. It wasn't signed, which was suspicious enough to have the galleons checked to make sure they were real. They were."

"We're teachers at Hogwarts," Dawn said. "Which of the students was the broom intended for?"

"Harry Potter."

Dawn and Willow looked at each other with the same thought on their minds, Sirius Black. But why would he buy the most expensive broom currently on the market when he was on the run and supposedly looking to kill Harry.

"If you don't mind we would like to take the broom and talk to the Headmaster," Willow said as she looked back at the shop keeper.

"I'm not really …"

"We have an added interest," Dawn said. "We're Harry's aunts and his legal guardians. We would rather Harry wait to get that broom till we made sure that nothing was wrong. Especially when the broom we were buying was going to be for him."

"I see your point," the shopkeeper said. "You want to try and find out who would send it. For someone out to do harm to Mr. Potter, a Firebolt would be a telltale sign as no other student would have one, assuming of course they didn't recognize him first. Very well, I will give it to you as my couriers with the understanding you will deliver it to Mr. Potter. This way if someone asks I can tell them it was definitely sent. What you all do with it once you leave my shop is out of my hands."

"Thank you," Dawn and Willow said.

"Here is the Firebolt you are buying." The shopkeeper handed them a Firebolt. "You will notice that I had it engraved while we were talking for Mr. Potter. This will be the indication of which broom is which as the one from my anonymous buyer is a stock Firebolt, with no engraving."

"Thank you," Willow said again as the shopkeeper handed her the other broom.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Upon Dawn and Willow's return to Hogwarts they dropped off their present for Harry in their suite and then headed straight to Dumbledore's office with the other broom.

"Dawn, Willow," Dumbledore said as they entered his office.

"We just came back from Diagon Alley," Willow said. "Where we learned that someone had bought Harry a Firebolt."

Dawn held up the broom.

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "I'm acquainted with the broom." Upon the looks of shock he explained. "I do keep up the latest inventions and upgrades in the wizarding community. It is my hope that the wizarding world will eventually catch up to the muggle world in terms of technology. But alas I have my doubts, there are those in the Wizengament that do not want anything muggle in the wizarding world. And they have stonewalled every single effort to incorporate muggle technology. Just think of it, the use of pen and paper would stave off the costs of the students buying the more expensive ink and parchment. But the pureblood families are more traditional in nature of course, as you both well know."

Dawn and Willow nodded. They did know, Muggleborns after all were considered the lowest wizarding class in the wizarding world.

"Now I believe you have a reason for bringing this broom to my attention?" he asked.

"According to the shopkeeper," Dawn said. "He received an order of this broom for Harry. There was no signature, no identifying marks of any kind on the letter that accompanied the money. Nothing other than buyer wanted the Firebolt and wanted it to go to Harry." Just then memories began to flood Dawn's mind. "Wait a minute I am remembering something. Nothing on who sent it. But the shopkeeper was telling the truth when he said it was a stock broom. You all break the broom apart and reassemble it looking for a jink or something else to prove it had or had not been tampered with and find nothing."

"At least that much is good news," Dumbledore said. "But who would send Harry, beside yourselves, an expensive broom such as this? Remus might, but financially I doubt he could afford such a broom. If it was just your salaries here I would doubt the two of you could have done it. But you both still have salaries coming from the ISC do you not?"

"We do," Dawn said. "We suspect it could be Sirius Black. But the problem with that scenario is that well he is on the run. How did he get the money?"

"He would have access to the Black family vaults," Dumbledore said. "His incarceration at Azkaban would not have changed that. Now as we all know he is still Harry's godfather. Which means it is likely something he might do in that role. But if he is out to kill Harry, why would he?"

"He may not recognize Harry," Willow said. "If he has been in Azkaban. He likely did not get the Daily Prophet, correct?" Dumbledore nodded. "The Firebolt would be a telltale sign of who Harry was, because he would likely be the only student here that has one."

"Quite right," Dumbledore said. "Leave the broom with me and I will get to the bottom of this. I assume the reason you found out about this broom is because you were buying Harry one?"

"Yes," Willow said. "And it too is a Firebolt, with one distinction. The shopkeeper had it engraved with Harry's name."

"Good," Dumbledore said. "That should fool Black into thinking it is not the broom he bought assuming he gets a close enough look at it. Bringing him out into the light."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

On Christmas morning, Dawn woke to find Willow laying next to her with her head on Dawn's shoulder.

"Hey, baby," Dawn said when she noticed that Willow was awake. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Willow returned.

When they pulled themselves out of bed they found at the foot of their bed was a small heap of parcels. They opened presents from each of their friends as well as from each other. Around lunchtime they headed down to the Great Hall, on their way they met Ron, Harry and Hermione.

"What's that?" said Ron, looking at a parcel in Willow's hand.

"Harry's Christmas present," Willow said as she handed the wrapped broom to Harry.

Harry ripped the parcel open and gasped at the gleaming broomstick.

Ron's jaw dropped as he looked closer at it. "I don't believe it," he said hoarsely.

Harry's eyes moved from the golden registration number at the top of the handle, right down to the perfectly smooth, streamlined birch twigs that made up the tail and back up to the handle where he noticed his name was engraved.

"Thanks Aunt Dawn, Aunt Willow," Harry said excitedly as he pulled Dawn and then Willow into an embrace.

"Wait till Malfoy sees you on this!" Ron said. "He'll be sick as a pig! This is an international standard broom, this is!"

"Only the best for our nephew," Dawn said.

"This must've been really expensive…" Hermione said.

"Probably cost more than all the Slytherins' brooms put together," said Ron happily.

"Don't worry," Willow said. "We can afford it. We still are under the employ of the ISC and receive a paycheck from that and here."

"Harry, can I have a go on it? Can I?" Ron asked.

Harry looked to his aunts, who motioned to him that it was his call. "Sure," he said. "Right after I do."

When they arrived in the Great Hall they found that the House tables had been moved against the walls and that a single table stood in the middle of the room. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick were there, along with Filch, the caretaker, who had taken off his usual brown coat and was wearing a very old and rather moldy-looking tailcoat. There were only three other students, two extremely nervous-looking first years and a sullen-faced Slytherin fifth year.

"Merry Christmas!" said Dumbledore as Dawn, Willow, Harry, Ron, and Hermione approached the table. "As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the House tables … Sit down, sit down!"

The five of them sat down side by side at the end of the table.

"Crackers!" said Dumbledore enthusiastically, offering the end of a large silver noisemaker to Snape, who took it reluctantly and tugged. With a bang like a gunshot, the cracker flew apart to reveal a large, pointed witch's hat topped with a stuffed vulture.

Snape's mouth thinned and he pushed the hat toward Dumbledore, who swapped it for his wizard's hat at once.

"Dig in!" he advised the table, beaming around.

Suddenly the doors of the Great Hall opened again. It was Professor Trelawney, gliding toward them as though on wheels.

Dawn glared at the divination professor. The fact that Trelawney had only given one real premonition in the time she had been employed here made Dawn consider almost a fraud.

"Sibyll, this is a pleasant surprise!" said Dumbledore, standing up.

"I have been crystal gazing, Headmaster," said Professor Trelawney in her mistiest, most faraway voice, "and to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do beg you to forgive my lateness…"

"Certainly, certainly," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "Let me draw you up a chair—"

And he did indeed draw a chair in midair with his wand, which revolved for a few seconds before falling with a thud between Snape and McGonagall. Trelawney lowered herself into the empty chair.

McGonagall poked a large spoon into the nearest tureen. "Tripe, Sibyll?"

Trelawney ignored her, she looked around once more and said, "But where is dear Professor Lupin?"

"I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again," said Dumbledore, indicating that everybody should start serving themselves. "Most unfortunate that it should happen on Christmas Day."

"But surely you already knew that, Sibyll?" said McGonagall, her eyebrows raised.

Trelawney gave McGonagall a very cold look. "Certainly I knew, Minerva," she said quietly. "But one does not parade the fact that one is All-Knowing. I frequently act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous."

Dawn barely managed to stifle a laugh as she whispered in Willow's ear. "All knowing, yeah right."

"That explains a great deal," said McGonagall tartly.

Trelawney's voice suddenly became a good deal less misty. "If you must know, Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long. He seems aware, himself, that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal gaze for him—"

"Imagine that," said Dawn dryly.

"I doubt," said Dumbledore, in a cheerful but slightly raised voice, "that Professor Lupin is in any immediate danger. Severus, you've made the potion for him again?"

"Yes, Headmaster," said Snape.

"Good," said Dumbledore. "Then he should be up and about in no time… Derek, have you had any of these chipolatas? They're excellent."

The first-year boy went furiously red on being addressed directly by Dumbledore, and took the platter of sausages with trembling hands.

Trelawney behaved almost normally until the very end of Christmas dinner, two hours later. Full to bursting with Christmas dinner and still wearing their party hats, Harry and Ron got up first from the table and she shrieked loudly.

"My dears! Which of you left his seat first? Which?"

"Dunno," said Ron, looking uneasily at Harry.

"I doubt it will make much difference," said McGonagall coldly, "unless a mad axe-man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the entrance hall."

Trelawney looked highly affronted.

"Coming?" Harry said to Hermione when he, Ron and Hermione had their fill of Christmas dinner two hours later.

Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way out of the Great Hall. Once the door closed behind them Dumbledore turned to Dawn and Willow. "We took a part the broom you gave me," he said. "You were correct, Dawn, that we would find nothing."

"It's unusual, why would anyone send Harry an expensive broom. None of you would do it, even if you could afford it," Willow said. "You all would not want to show favoritism to Harry. Dawn and I on the otherhand can show favoritism cause we are his aunts. Which leaves only one likely person, and if he did send it, it was for nefarious purposes."


End file.
